I’m so sorry for your loss. By looking at you, I see how tears have washed your face. I was in my late twenties when my mother and father died, so let me offer what little I know.
There were days I wondered how I could feel so good. Leaves shimmered in the trees, flipping sunlight around. The dog chased the Frisbee. I felt peace, like a mattress, a comfort that I thought came from God or people’s concern. Where the heck are my tears?
If you’d like to read more or listen to it, jump on over to WNIJ.
You might also want to check out my novel The River Caught Sunlight at Amazon, which tells the story of my experiences with grief.
