There is something beautiful and terrifying about the way grief shows up for each of us. How we can’t prepare for it and how unpredictable it is. How it encompasses us in isolation, and how it will wait, patiently, until we face it. How the world insists on continuing on without regard for your newly/violently shifted perspective on life. When you’re grieving, you want everything to stop for you to feel what you’re feeling. But it doesn't. Life just sort of goes on.