After My Son’s Suicide, I’m Learning to Navigate Emotional Minefields in My Home
Maybe, over time, the ephemera of Jack’s life will become less explosive, like a landmine whose triggering mechanism has eroded, rendering it harmless.
that’s okay, you managed to do ityou couldn’t possibly have slept in the house where you heard that gunshot, ran up those stairs, and found your son lifeless on his bed just hours earlier.
What must it be like to live only in the present
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I’m stockpiling sweaters because they signify refuge, collecting them like talismans though grief cannot be avoided.
My heart’s deepest desire was to see my mother again, yes, but also to glimpse a portrait of normalcy that I had never known in the years of her illness.