Answers

I just read a book called Agatha of Little Neon. Agatha asks the mother figure about life's questions. Basically, she asks do the questions we ask about life change as we change? And the mother figure replies, no. The answers change but not the questions. 

I love that answer. Will I ever stop grieving?  No. But the way I grieve weaves in and out; different and the same.

I see grief as a thread woven through my days. If life were a weaving, there would be a big hole for Andrew and smaller holes for other losses. They aren’t tied off holes but they have unraveled to where they stop and the threads go on around them. Part of the fabric.