Breathe

People grieve in different ways. Some people sit quietly until their loved one is dead, and then howl and cry out loud; some howl and keen through the whole process, and continue to express themselves often and loudly for months to come. Some people weep quietly, others act as though nothing much has happened. Some people hold and stroke the body and carry talismans with them later; some just want to be left alone. One man told me, “well, I'm glad that is over,” before the left the room and went back to work. And once in awhile, there is someone like the man this week, who kept going to his dead mother's bedroom door and yelling at her body, “ma, please, if you just get up again, I'll get you a beer and popcorn.” But for many of us, sooner or later, grief is a deep and silent well, a place where even the simplest tasks become impossible and where sadness is a thick, wet blanket that strangles our will and our spirit.