“Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief,
there was great love.” ~Unknown
there was great love.” ~Unknown
It’s been almost six months now. Half of a year without my brother and the grief still visits. I’m pretty sure grief doesn’t actually go away, it just gets further and further apart.
People continue to ask me how I am so “strong” through all of this, mistaking my happy moments as the full picture.
I continue to tell them strength comes because I feel it all.
The story in itself is my therapy, my chance to relive the amazing memories, my chance to show you the waves of grief I ride.
The last thing I told my conscious brother was, “But I believe in miracles, I really do.”
To be fair, the last thing I really told him was a travel story about me using a squatty-potty in Thailand, in hopes that humor would bring him back to responsiveness.
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