Grief, I have learned, is not something you get over. It is something you grow around. Like a tree swallowing a fence post, the wood slowly covering the metal until it becomes part of the trunk. The post is still there. You can see its shape beneath the bark. But the tree keeps living.
Jasper, you were a bright light in our lives, and your presence will never be forgotten. Your smile could light up a room, and your laughter was contagious. You had a way of making everyone feel seen and loved, and your kindness and compassion inspired us all to be better versions of ourselves. on the death of my son jasper swain pdf
If the essay was published in a small journal (e.g., The Georgia Review , Granta , or The Threepenny Review from the 1980s-90s), your local library’s or JSTOR access might contain a scanned PDF. Search the exact phrase in the library database. Grief, I have learned, is not something you get over
October 17th Durham, North Carolina
