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| Grief: "something thick and gooey inside" |
[Reviewed and updated December 6, 2021]
Grief was like the mud that covered them. Messy. Quickly spreading everywhere, once it found a way in. ~ Veronica Rossi
A reader writes: My grandpa died five months ago. He lived with me for the first nine years of my life after which I moved away. In the past six years plus, I saw him only once for 20 days about a 1.5 years ago. My grandpa was like a parent to me because my parents were working. We had an amazing few years together and he showered all of his love on me. I was his favorite. He was a beautiful man with a great sense of humor and selflessness. He always cared for other people and forgot himself in his worry over and care for others. He was a great soul and I was very, very close to him. But then he got seriously sick at the beginning of school and junior year being very important, I was unable to go see him. I made the choice of going through with my responsibilities instead of visiting him because that's what he would have wanted. He died a few days later and it was very painful for me. But it was even more devastating for my mom, so I wasn't able to talk about my grief with her.