If there is anything that I have learned in all my years it’s that grief needs air. Just like anything alive that gets mold and withers when it’s suffocated and not given light, grief needs space and air to be and breathe.
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Once I learned about the woman that my grandmother was and the difficult life she had it was no wonder to me that the illness that would eventually kill her affected the areas responsible for love and power; because she felt that she had neither of those.
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