I haven’t found any logical progression in grief. I don’t know what stage I’m in now. Is there a stage that feels like a normal walk through the living room interrupted by the staggering pain of stepping barefoot on a stray Lego? That’s the one I’m in. Small memories of…
After the snow, but before I attempt to do anything productive.
Slightly awkward from a grown-up / critical perspective, but an effective portal back to all the feelings.
Two or three years ago…
It’s all good.

I’m Alex, the creator and author behind this blog. I’m a wonderer.