Narcan
I keep on thinking that I’m okay, that I’ve got this. I’m way out ahead of my losses. They’re managed. I’ve grieved for long enough that it’s simply how I live. I think I’m fine. Maybe not fine, just accustomed to the normalcy of grief, of living without them. I am used to the absences. I maintain relationships, connections with my dead. Normally, Grief just walks along with me and we exist in that comfortable silence you share with your oldest friend and closest love. We are always together, familiars. Scrolling through social media I discover that it’s Daughter’s Day and seeing photos of mothers with their daughters doesn’t break me. I don’t even feel sad, just worried for the newly bereaved mothers experiencing the pangs anew with every smiling picture, square after square of evidence that others have what they do not. I turn it off and get a text from a friend who noticed the day, thought it might bother me. She sends me a message. My lack of a daughter, my writing and spe...