Grief never really leaves us. It just becomes less shocking — a softer echo of the first impact. With time, it settles into something familiar, a weight we learn to balance as we grow older and watch mentors, parents, and then peers drift beyond our reach.
Our minds keep trying to make sense of it — to hold the impossible truth that what was once vividly here is now gone. But grief has its own strange physics. It bends time. One memory, one scent, one song, and we’re suddenly back there again — standing in a room filled with laughter, sunlight, or the faint hum of voices long quiet.
Time travel happens all the time for those who have lost. The heart remembers what the world forgets. ~Patrick Timm