Loss is so paradoxical: It is at once enormous and tiny.
If the condition of grief is nearly universal, its transactions are exquisitely personal.
After all dying is one of the most profound and difficult experiences we have.
A mother is the portal by which you enter the world.
Loss doesn't feel redeemable. But for me one consoling aspect is the recognition that, in this at least, none of us is different from anyone else: We all lose loved ones; we all face our own death.
I live to collect information, and I am also a perfectionist.