The first night we were in hospice, one of the nurses spoke about "Brian's journey". I wanted to punch her. He wasn't on a journey - he was dying. Destination nothingness.
Now people speak of my grieving as a journey. A journey where? To acceptance? To healing? This is not a journey. This is my life. This is a wound that will never heal; a loss that will never subside.
Please do not speak of my mourning as a journey. There is no eventual destination. This is my life, and the most I can ask is for the strength to endure.
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