I had nothing left to invest emotionally or intellectually in anything I normally loved - or even anything I was once pleasantly distracted by. Still, my grief cruelly took away my ability to concentrate on books, movies or even any TV shows that required more than the bare minimum of intellectual processing. They took me into their homes when I showed up or they took me hiking along the Pacific Ocean or to karaoke.
They flew to me when I needed them but couldn’t say. My friends came and sat shivah with me in New York City when I arrived home, filling my apartment with carbohydrates and flowers.
Even when I was at my worst, my loved ones did what they could to soothe the unbearable. It wasn’t all terrible there were small mercies that I’ll never forget.
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