You can’t change the tale so that you turned left one day instead of right, or didn’t make the mistake that might have saved your life a day later. We don’t get those choices. The story is what got you here, and embracing its truth is what makes the outcome bearable.

I'd confused need with love and love with sacrifice.

That she was irreplaceable became a bittersweet loyalty: Her death was what I had now instead of her.

Maybe this is the point: to embrace the core sadness of life without toppling headlong into it, or assuming it will define your days.

My idea of a productive day, as both a child and an adult, was reading for hours and staring out the window.

the territory of grief ... is both cruel and commonplace.

The only education in grief that any of us ever gets is a crash course.