Share 'Seven years?'

I can say truly that for me grieving my darling husband, something I thought was endless, truly began to change color slightly in the sixth year after his death. And by year seven, his loss had become "composted" somehow... made part of me. The so-called stages of grief, the prognostications of how long it takes, or, worse, "should" take, seem to me such a violent disservice to the process, so…