“I suppose that if I’m grieving, then I must have loved whatever I lost, however I lost it. I suppose—it’s like a scar reminding me of some adventure I had. Or like the end credits of a wonderful film. So . . . no, I’m not comfortable with it, but I’m grateful for it.” She considers. “Grief might feel like fear, but it also feels like memory, and with memory, there’s no—a story doesn’t end.”
