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Grief Subsides, Inch by Inch

By April 19, 2015November 25th, 2018Caregiver, ePatient, Family man
Black and white photo of very sad, miserable young man puckered chin

I’m reading Scott Simon’s book, Unforgettable. A son, a mother, lessons of a lifetime. Beautifully written and so close to home. Scott Simon’s book resonates for me. It’s been four months since my mom died. Like Scott Simon, I, too, laid next to my mom in her bed telling stories. Before dying I was grossed out at the idea of laying in bed next to her. Now I treasure those moments. I feel her loss every day.  Actually, it’s almost every day now, not every, every day. I resent that it’s not every day. Last November I was so upset that the 11th anniversary of my boy, Mike’s death passed without me remembering. I cherish the bittersweet sadness and the exquisitely tender spots of these memories. What have I become when I forget those who color my tapestry? Yet I am recovering. Very slowly regaining my strength and my center. The surrealness of loss and grief subsides inch by inch. Thank god. I couldn’t stay floating in that ever-deepening well of grief. Grief is again becoming a quirky, intriguing companion. Oh ma, where are you now? Do you have more stories for me? I have so many for you.


  • Anonymous says:

    Thank you Danny, I think of your mom often. I am part of a Crone group and we call into the room women who are not present and I call on your mom at every meeting. I miss her too. Benita

  • Sue says:

    Oh so beautifully said, Danny. Thank you!