“Mama is sad because Grandpa died,” my four-year-old daughter says to her cousin. “Died.” She knows the word “died.” She pulls tissues out of a box and hands them to me, and her emotional alertness moves, surprises, impresses me. A few days later, she asks, “When will Grandpa wake up again?” I weep and weep and wish that her understanding of the world were real. That grief was not about the utter impossibility of return.”
Book:Notes on Grief
