![]() ![]() ![]() Bush, and (frightening thought) the driver passing me on I-285. Not just the poor souls on the prayer list, but the cashier at Kroger, George W. Reading brought the comfort of commiseration: the realization that loss-this apocalyptic, redefining human experience-affects everyone. No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. After the death of my husband Elliot, I found myself not swallowing but sighing-taking deep breaths followed by audible exhales-a subconscious attempt, I later realized, to dislodge what felt like cinder blocks on my chest. I keep on swallowing.”Įven before opening to the first page, I knew C. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. ![]() I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. ![]()
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