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Day 207

Apparently, there are things that make grieving in autumn harder than in summer. Autumn’s perpetual overcast means your tear-filled, bloodshot eyes can no longer be hidden behind sunglasses. Instead, when the wheel of bereavement’s emotions turns and you feel the needle-pricking of tears behind your eyes, everyone you encounter sees it. Strangers ask if you’re okay. You’re not, but you say you are. Why ruin their day with your grief?

The brisk wind that cuts through me makes the loneliness of loss feel bone cold. No amount of hugging myself in my wool coat brings comfort. The only comfort would be Constance’s hugs.

People say time helps you grieve. Does it? My morose demeanor is hidden like a wasp in a flower. I try not to sting people with it. Today, my friend Molly and I were walking down State Street when we spotted a woman pushing a stroller. Her two daughters, who were under five years old, were walking several paces behind her in the crowd. It was terrifying. We concurred the girls could easily be kidnapped or assaulted. Staring in horror, Molly said, “I don’t like that but what can you do? All you can do is pray.” I snapped, “What good is superstition; It’s not going to stop those girls from being hit by a car.” I immediately regretted saying such an ugly thing. Molly was kind enough not to get into a debate on theology with me. I know of what I speak. On the way home, I cried my eyes out.

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Unknown member
Oct 08, 2018

Day 208 is at

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