Older Grief

Older grief is gentler. It’s about sudden tears swept in by a strand of music. It’s about haunting echoes of first pain on anniversaries. It’s about feeling his (her) presence for an instant one day while dusting his (her) room. It’s about early pictures that invite me to fold him (her) in my arms again. It’s about memories blown on wisps of wood smoke and sea scents.
Older grief is about aching in gentler ways, rarer longing, less engulfing fire. Older grief is about searing pain wrought into tenderness. (by Linda Zelenka)