Almost nine months have passed and I realize I'm not even close to letting go, moving on, and all of the other cliches associated with healing after loss. 
I'm doing everything "right"...reading and writing about grief, remembering and talking through the pain, and most importantly, clinging to God for his strength. But I still ask the why's and battle demons intent on my destruction.  Others appear to be moving forward much faster than me; my pace looks more like a childhood game: two spaces forward, three steps back and a few "go to jail" turns. 
I'm okay with this.  I know God's plan for my husband was better than my desire, I'm thankful He controls life and death and everything in between, but I also love that He made me to love with such intensity that I struggle to say goodbye.  This is who I am; I love hard, I grieve hard...and long.  My mountain of loss, in addition to Rob's death, isn't quickly removed like an imploding building.  Instead, I've embarked on a slow, arduous process of chipping away and clearing years of mourning. 
Even so, I continue to trust Him to redeem this unspeakable grief, keeping my eyes on my Healer and believing his Name is greater than the pain... the questions... the loneliness.
 For there is a time and a way for everything, although man's trouble lies heavy on him.  Ecclesiastes 8:6