Grief is such an unusual concept to me. It is a very sharp feeling that you cannot really empathize until you go through it. Therefore, it is not transferrable, it is not felt by your friends, by people around you; you cannot possibly tell what it really feels like carrying a burning stone on your chest that is full of memories.
I have tried to transcribe it to people. I always start with the very obvious. You miss them a lot. No, it doesn’t get easier with time. Time has absolutely no power on your grief. Blessed with healing, time is weak when confronted with grief. It doesn’t get easier but you get used to it. It is a lot like carrying a very heavy box; but on somedays, the box comes with a strap, so you can carry it like a backpack. Somedays, box feels heavier than ever.
They are everywhere. You always want to call them. Life seems quite an unnecessary process when you actively pay attention to their absence. You wish you’d died before them; then you’ll think it’s selfish. Pain is unbearable, yet somehow you bear it. You will question afterlife, and you will start to wish there is an afterlife, a peaceful heaven for them, and you will wish to be a better person; just to be able to meet them in heaven.
And the worst part is, I think, you can’t let go of grief; it is the only strongest feeling you have of them, and it is now part of them, what’s left of them. So you hold on to it, like holding a broken glass in your hands and keep squeezing it even if your fingers and your palm is bled out, happy that you still have a part of the glass.
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