“Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to.”
I think this is arguably one of the most accurate (for me) and beautiful pieces on loss and the way grief works that I’ve ever read.
I wish I could attribute it back to the person who wrote it but all I know is that it came from Reddit.
It has turned out to be very poignant this week as I stumbled upon a jewelry box of my Grandmother’s I hadn’t yet opened. The contents are evidence of a life well lived—but also of stories I will never know—because there’s no one left to ask.
And then came this…