This is a post from another dear friend about the incident. Fourteen years later, and we’ve barely spoken about it. For me, it was just too much, and too connected to too many other things that have gone unspoken.
It’s strange, how sometimes with grief, there is a feeling of possessiveness. I’ve often had the feeling, “I own this TOO. This happened to ME too.”
And then there are the questions along the lines of, “Am I grieving CORRECTLY? Can people tell I’m grieving? Do they know how much it hurts? Are they judging me, in my grief, about whether I’m grieving enough? Visibly enough?”
Among the many lessons grief has taught me are that we all own it, and we all do it in our own ways, and in our own time, and that it comes back, unexpectedly, forever.