Not that it’s the same, but I lost my best friend to a fentanyl overdose two and a half years ago. The first year was incredibly hard. There were so many times every day that something would happen and I’d want to talk to him about it. I got pretty depressed for a while. The next year it was a little easier. Those times that I wanted to tell him something were more like once a week instead of once a day. This year it’s been easier. I still miss him like crazy.

I printed out a wedding photo wall for me and my wife, and since he was my best man, we had a lot of photos of him. I printed some really big ones of him, and they’re displayed prominently on the wall.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing him and wanting to talk to him, but I don’t cry anymore when I think about him. It still hurts, but a lot less.

I guess that is to say, grief gets easier, but you never stop experiencing it. It gets easier to think about the fun times and laugh instead of cry.