That old bugaboo - "You are grieving too long"

My doctor told me this week that I have been grieving too long. That since it has been longer than six months and I am still sad that I should think about taking an antidepressant. I reminded him that not only did I lose the love of my life in the last four years but I also lost my mother-in-law who I was caring for for 2 1/2 years, that I had to put down 4 of the 6 pets that John and I shared, plus my relationship with my mother totally fell apart [and it was never good anyway].
He agreed that that was a lot to experience and backed off, saying we should put antidepressants on the back burner for now. 
But even if that hadn't happened, I don't think years is "too long" to grieve. How do you put into words what it feels like to lose your other half suddenly and without any warning? John and I loved each other for 32 years and I am to be "over it" in just 4?
It's not like I sit around in a dirty house all day mourning. I do things. My house is kept up, the pets are taken care of, I eat and sleep, I meet friends for outings, I even eat out and go to the movies by myself.
But I am sad. There is always a baseline of sadness that will never go away and I accept that. That is my life. And that is okay. Why can't it be okay for others? Who's to say how long to grieve is enough? The answer is no one. It's no one's business but mine.
I was explaining this to a friend over lunch the next day and she understood. She lost her mother when she was twelve. It's been 50 years and she is still feeling the effects. Not that she cries every day or tears her clothing. But it's a loss and she feels it. It has shaped who she is and that is neither good nor bad. It just is.
We are the sum total of our experiences and we can't go around numbing those feelings and experiences with pills.
I don't mind feeling John's loss. I don't like it. I wish he were here and I know in my heart that if by some miracle he were to walk through our front door and life would go back to the way it was before, there would be no sadness and no need for anyone to suggest antidepressants. So that tells me pills are not the answer. This is situational, not chemical. Fogging me up with antidepressants is not going to change reality. It will just mess up my driving and my reasoning.
As I explained to my friend, this sadness baseline is like driving a shopping cart with a bad wheel. I can get the job done but I have to push harder and sometimes I steer in a direction I don't want to go. And sometimes the cart seizes up and I have to move backwards and go forward again to get going. But I'll get there.

This is one of the first pictures I ever took of John. He is holding one of my cats Squeaker. John used to call this picture "The Boneless Cat" because of how relaxed she was. One of the first things I learned about John was that he loved cats and that made me love him more. So few men love them or at least admit that they do.