I’ve been looking for a way to explain how I feel about my father dying. It’s as if I were born on a continent, and I played there, and I grew up falling, and getting back up, and figuring out how I fell. I went back there when I was proud. I went back there when I was miserable, and it was always home.

That continent has fallen and disappeared into the ocean. That’s how I feel.

1 thought on “The Problem With Explaining Grief

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