“Grief is like drowning. It’s gnawing absence, and a threat. It’s raw terror, it’s bargaining for extra time, it’s your heart outside your body in a hailstorm, it’s nothing mattering anymore. But suddenly I’m seeing, as if for the first time, that it isn’t unusual.”

“Grief is like drowning. It’s gnawing absence, and a threat. It’s raw terror, it’s bargaining for extra time, it’s your heart outside your body in a hailstorm, it’s nothing mattering anymore. But suddenly I’m seeing, as if for the first time, that it isn’t unusual.”

— Erica Buist