Grief

The dark figure beckoned, beckoned in the rain, beckoned for him to come and walk, to come and play the game. And it was time to get started. There was still so far to walk. Eyes blind, supplicating hands held out before him as if for alms, Garraty walked toward the dark figure. And when the hand touched his shoulder again, he somehow found the

I catch myself putting out a plate for her at dinner, and then I do it anyway. I don’t think of her as being ‘dead’ anymore, so much as different. Still here, just … unseen.”

Patricia Wants to Cuddle by Samantha Allen

I needed to be alone so that he could come back.

The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion

It was in fact the ordinary nature of everything preceding the event that prevented me from truly believing it had happened, absorbing it, incorporating it, getting past it.

The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion