There are better and worse versions of loss. We are aiming for the better version because then we have the strongest base possible for rebuilding. That is our victory, it is the only one on the table, and it is a painful, sad and desperately awful form of success. Society can fall a hundred stories, seventy, thirty... whatever happens, however much we win, it will be measured in how much more we could have lost than we did. I'm sorry the news is that bleak. But, there you go.
In loss, the seven stages of grief come as a a road of shards that can only be travelled upon with bare soles.
In loss we travel through the waves of grief, in that most unpredictable of emotional storms. If we are blessed there is a lighthouse to navigate toward, a place to go for shelter and warmth.
Loss comes and we feel the bonds of our love reach out into the ether, feeling them there yet wishing for their presence, to hold and nurture once more.
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