This Is The Forked Tongue Of Grief

This Is The Forked Tongue Of Grief Again. It Whispers In One Ear: Return To What You Once Loved Best, And In The Other Ear It Whispers, Move On.

I Do Think It Is Harder To Acknowledge Our Strengths, Or To Forgive Ourselves And Each Other For Our Shortcomings, When There Has Not Been A Result We Can All Agree On.

It's Extremely Hard For Athletes To Accept What's Happened To Them Sometimes. It's Hard To Be Beaten By A Small Margin, And I've Spoken With Athletes Who, For Years Afterward, Have Been Tormented By The Knowledge That, Had They Done Something Ever So Slightly Different, They Could Have Been One-ten-thousandth Of A Second Quicker.

On Our Honeymoon We Talked And Talked. We Stayed In A Beachfront Villa, And We Drank Rum And Lemonade And Talked So Much That I Never Even Noticed What Color The Sea Was. Whenever I Need To Stop And Remind Myself How Much I Once Loved Andrew, I Only Need To Think About This. That The Ocean Covers Seven Tenths Of The Earth's Surface, And Yet My Husband Could Make Me Not Notice It.

I'm Really Interested In People's Decisions.