Interesting fact from the front lines: raw grief smells like ripped leaves and splintered branches, a jagged green shriek.

Interesting fact from the front lines: raw grief smells like ripped leaves and splintered branches, a jagged green shriek.

This is the real power of joy, to make us certain that, beneath all grief, the most fundamental of realities is joy itself.

it's easy to be forgetful when you're grieving, even forget those things that you believe most people wouldn't.

How many times can a heart be shattered and still be pieced back together? How many times before the damage is irreparable?

How many times can a heart be shattered and still be pieced back together? How many times before the damage is irreparable?

There was the woman I was before my mom died and the one I was now, my old life sitting on the surface of me like a bruise.

...you must never partly love or stop half way - because then, you become superficial and cannot be deeply hurt or loved...

Sometimes I am all right. Is this what they call letting go? I have let go, if letting go means I am all right sometimes.

Sometimes I am all right. Is this what they call letting go? I have let go, if letting go means I am all right sometimes.

Unacquainted with grief, I knew not how to appraise my bereavement; I could not rightly estimate the strength of the stroke.

Unacquainted with grief, I knew not how to appraise my bereavement; I could not rightly estimate the strength of the stroke.

Dead. Even in the silence of my mind I cannot think the word. I cannot acknowledge this most obvious and terrible of truths.

Dead. Even in the silence of my mind I cannot think the word. I cannot acknowledge this most obvious and terrible of truths.

We bereaved are not alone. We belong to the largest company in all the world--the company of those who have known suffering.