124. Grief for the LivingNova

Grief doesn’t always come when someone dies.

I learned that slowly, over months, sitting on the same soft chair in a quiet therapy room on Spring Road, listening to the hum of traffic outside and the steady, patient breathing of a woman who never rushed me.

Sometimes grief comes because someone is still alive.

And you have to live knowing that.

By the time I said Roman’s name out loud, it had been nearly eight months since New York.

Eight months since my body ...