Grief is for People

by Sloane Crosley

We tend to scrape up all the lonely, echoing, unknowable parts of ourselves and drop them in drawers or hang them from little wooden shelves, injecting our feelings into objects that won’t judge or abandon us, holding on to the past in this tangible way. But everyone else? Everyone else has their priorities straight.

Still, there are those who will, unsolicited, tell me that I shouldn’t blame myself. These people are idiots. Or else they are projecting their own losses.

The miracle of life is not that we have it, it’s that most of us wake up every day and agree to fight for it, to hold it in our arms even when it squirms to get away.

Papa