These revelations are not new.
Except to me.
Culture gives us the space, the permission, to wrap ourselves in grief for a series of days–the wake, visitations, funeral–and then expects us to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and get back to the business of life.
And mostly we do. We get busy. Stay busy. Hide in busy.
But then grief breaks through.
When you see a little girl at the airport snuggled into her daddy’s neck and want to warn her that one day he will leave her.
When you are drifting off to sleep and memories and loss sneak up on your relaxing mind.
When you see that smile.
And grief breaks through.