I marvel sometimes at the way grief changes; how it changes over time, how it changes those grieving. How it differs between the bereaved. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect this weekend with P out of town. My schedule hasn’t really changed that much with him gone for a long weekend–study, dishes, laundry, run, walk the dog, Netflix, a few social outings with friends–but when I’ve been at home, I’ve been alone. With no one else to hear my thoughts, they’ve expanded, or perhaps maybe collapsed in on one another. I don’t know which best describes it. Ballooning, or a rabbit hole fall?
Written By LOIS MOLTANE
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