“It had been odd to envy their grief, but I had. I envied the explosion and finality of it – their sobs and tears... Her passing came slowly, over months and years, in the dull bits, pieces, and mundane hours that I worked to stay alive... The memories of her became disconnected blurred images, warm hands cupping my cheeks, a tuneless hum as she worked, words that floated in the air, her finger pressed to my lips.”
