Mourning

I do not know how to mourn. When my grandpa died in December, I was sad and cried, but didn’t want to talk about it much. I am finding the same is true with my grandmother’s passing. She only died on Sunday, and yet I find myself trying to occupy my time with a lot of other things instead of thinking about all the questions I have and how angry I am. I started reading a book called Why Bad Things Happen to Good People but haven’t returned to it in a while. Night is the hardest because I finally allow myself to think about it: why did she have a stroke? what’s the point of living and loving if we only experience pain? why have children? etc. etc. etc. I know there are no easy answers and if I don’t face these questions during the waking hours, I am going to have a rough time. But now I will go do homework and watch TV and put if off again.

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