I've been reading about death and grieving and came a cross a jewel of a book by Roger Rosenblatt called Kayak Morning, reflections on love, grief and small boats.
He wrote it in response to the death of his daughter Amy who died on a treadmill at the young age of thirty-eight. She was the mother of three young children.
Here is one vignette:
“You have to understand,” she said. “Grief lasts forever.”
“Like death,” I said.
“Like death. Except death is someone else’s condition, and grief is all yours.”
“I feel worse now than I did shortly after she died.”
“And you’ll feel even worse next year. And worse the year after that, unless you find a way to transform your grief.”
“We’re back to that.”
“We’ve never left it,” she said. “Grief comes to you all at once, so you think it will be over all at once. But it is your guest for a lifetime.”
“How should I treat this guest? This unwelcome, uninvited guest.”
“Think of the one who sent it to you,” she said.