I can usually tell when a woman is going through a divorce because they look so gaunt and tired and sad. It's just a huge sadness. It's horrible. It's like death. You mourn, but the person's still there.
My parents were mourning the death of my sister. She was killed in a car accident before I was born, and I didn't know she existed until I was 13 or 14 years old. I knew I was growing up in a house where people were angry and sad.
When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn; when man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!
I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness and the willingness to remain vulnerable.
You need to mourn, you need to be upset, to give yourself time to replenish. Then you use it all as fuel to get stronger.
You do not see the river of mourning because it lacks one tear of your own.
One and the same thing can at the same time be good, bad, and indifferent, e.g., music is good to the melancholy, bad to those who mourn, and neither good nor bad to the deaf.
There were days I could barely struggle into a size 46 or 48, months of larges and XXLs, and endless rounds of leggings with the elastic at the waist stretched to its limit and beyond - topped with the fashion equivalent of a tea cozy. And always black, because I was in mourning for my slimmer self.
We've enshrined the purity, sanctity, value, and importance of bringing children into the world, yet we don't discuss death. There used to be an enshrined period where mourning was a necessary part of going through the process of grieving; death wasn't considered morbid or antisocial. But that's totally gone.
I'm mourning with the rest of the world for the talented, gorgeous, funny, intelligent John Forsythe but my heart is broken for the loss of my dear, dear friend and neighbor. I will miss him terribly.
