Yes, this system is imperfect. It took years—and the privilege of professional help—before I’d learn to articulate my grief in words.
The grief of the pandemic era is ongoing. What happens if everyone is sitting shiva at once?
My parents were old. It was time to take seriously the last years we had left. That is not, of course, how they saw things.
I had tried to show the world that I was resilient, never fallible, but my unwillingness to deal with my sadness and anger was hurting me and my daughter.
It was the first time I’d ever noticed growth or newness this way: reclaiming, or returning, rather than overhauling and chasing.
During those first weeks, I was in a never-ending, often failing battle with Penny, then an eight-pound roly-poly of a beagle