Each anniversary, birthday,
and holiday during the first year of grief carries its own suitcase of memories
and heartaches that open when the day arrives, spilling its misery.
If we rummage through their
contents in the first year, as hard as they are to face, they are only half as
hard to face in the second year, which is a consolation because then the joys
in those memories begin to return and offset the sorrows.
* If you would like to read the rest of this post, let me know and I’ll send it to you. *
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