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Only there’s two sides to every story, you know. You just remember that. —Wally Lamb, She’s Come Undone
Small towns don’t forgive easily. Even when they do, they never forget.
One thing she’d heard over and over again in group therapy: there was no timeline for grief, no getting over losing Charlie, only learning to live with it. This was how she lived with it. Her ritual. Recalling the details, running through the questions. Making the pain greater because pain sharpened the mind and the senses, which kept her from forgetting.
“Sometimes you’ve taken all the shots you can,” he said. “And then it’s time to let someone else carry the puck for a while.”
stick to the basics, keep your head up, and don’t quit—
The rest of your life shouldn’t be about how Charlie died. It should be about how he lived.”
Pain and happiness weren’t mutually exclusive, they could coexist in the same moment, in the same memory.
“You know, I think that’s how grief works. You have to feel it so you can heal it, not bury yourself in it. You get through it, and each time it’s a little less.
