The Not-End of Grief

It's that time of the year again.

The leaves turn amber, and the calender veers toward November, and suddenly I am seeing her dates everywhere.  Events, meetings, and more are scheduled on the day she died, and the day she was born.

And every time, it shocks me.  An electric current running through my bones, and my breath catches and my insides twist, and that part of me that is hollow because of her absence echoes more loudly.

I thought that the first year of grief, of not-having-her,...