Grief is a strange creature. It rears its head when you least expect it, and it hangs around in ways that you could never have imagined. Its appearances can be logical, but they don’t always have to be. Sometimes grief only pokes its head out to greet you, and then other times it feels like its lying on your chest trying to smother you.
I’ve been thinking quite a bit about a friend who passed away a little over a year ago. She is best described as giggling, cussing sunshine, and that’s how I’ll always remember her.