If it is possible to die of grief then why on earth can't someone be healed by happiness?
My mother's last word to me clanks inside me like an iron bell that someone beats at dinnertime: love, love, love, love, love.
Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar
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My mother's last word to me clanks inside me like an iron bell that someone beats at dinnertime: love, love, love, love, love.
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She needed to recover. His father had died in January; it was only the end of May. They needed to stick to the routine they'd established during the intervening months. in that way, their life would return to its original shape, like a spring stretched in bad times but contracting eventually into happiness. That the world could come permanently unsprung had never occurred to him.
Lament invoked love.Woe invoked wonder.Grief invoked grace.Cry invoked celebration.(Page 80)
Three years? That's a thousand tomorrows, ma'am.
I cried and I cried and I cried. I wasn't crying because I was happy. I wasn't crying because I was sad. I wasn't crying because of my mother or my father or Paul. I was crying because I was full...I didn't feel like a big fate idiot anymore. And I didn't feel like a hard-ass motherfucking Amazonian queen. I felt fierce and humble and gathered up inside, like I was safe in this world too.
It's a long life, sweetheart, and time heals all wounds.