sadness

“It is comforting when one has a sorrow to lie in the warmth of one’s bed and there, abandoning all effort and all resistance, to bury even one’s head under the cover, giving one’s self up to it completely, moaning like branches in the autumn wind…”

- Marcel Proust

“But there was a comfort in the sadness. It is hard to explain and I don’t know if you feel the same about your mum, but I sometimes indulged my sadness. I headed towards it. Grief felt like the only way to keep close to them. So my mind headed to sad and bittersweet thoughts – even to a walk in the woods with them both thirty-six years ago,