My Theory Is This: Women Falter When

There Are Many Kinds Of Loss Embedded In A Loss - The Loss Of The Person, And The Loss Of The Self You Got To Be With That Person. And The Seeming Loss Of The Past, Which Now Feels Forever Out Of Reach.

And After My Mother's Death I Became More Open To And Empathetic About Other People's Struggles And Losses.

It's A Blessing Not To Be Alone In Your Grief But It's Also Painful To See Your Parents And Siblings In Pain.

I Wasn't Prepared For The Fact That Grief Is So Unpredictable. It Wasn't Just Sadness, And It Wasn't Linear. Somehow I'd Thought That The First Days Would Be The Worst And Then It Would Get Steadily Better - Like Getting Over The Flu. That's Not How It Was.

While I Did A Lot Of Research, I Ended Up Feeling That The Best Way To Write About Grief Was To Describe It From The Inside Out - The Show The Strange Intensities That Come Along With It, The Peculiar Thoughts, The Longing For That Past - All The Strange Moments Of Thinking You Glimpse The Dead Person On The Street, Or In Your Dreams.