Grief Is Characterized Much More By Waves

I Think About My Mother Every Day. But Usually The Thoughts Are Fleeting - She Crosses My Mind Like A Spring Cardinal That Flies Past The Edge Of Your Eye: Startling, Luminous, Lovely... Gone.

The People We Most Love Do Become A Physical Part Of Us, Ingrained In Our Synapses, In The Pathways Where Memories Are Created.

All Love Stories Are Tales Of Beginnings. When We Talk About Falling In Love, We Go To The Beginning, To Pinpoint The Moment Of Freefall.

What Had Happened Still Seemed Implausible. A Person Was Present Your Entire Life, And Then One Day She Disappeared And Never Came Back. It Resisted Belief.

Television Has Never Known What To Do With Grief, Which Resists Narrative: The Dramas Of Grief Are Largely Internal - For The Bereaved, It Is A Chaotic, Intense, Episodic Period, But The Chaos Is By And Large Subterranean, And Easily Appears Static To The Friendly Onlooker Who Has Absorbed The Fact Of Loss And Moved On.