“When the light goes out, you can’t just turn it back on and pretend it never went out. When you lose someone that you loved that intimately, it is a privilege to feel sad for as long as you feel sad.
It is a privilege to have loved that hard, and it is a shame to rush someone through that process.
There is no timeline for grief. There isn’t. There is only this that is in front of you right now.
When you, the one who is wounded and grieving and bereft, in darkness that is so dark that you can’t see your way out, when you continue to simply do the next thing in front of you, and then the next and then the next, you start to get stronger and you begin to feel braver. And then, suddenly, two years later, after the longest winter, you realize the sun has come out.
And you realize you’ve done it.
Juli asked me questions that nobody had ever asked.
My favorite question: “Almost seven years later, how do you define healing?”
“My definition of healing is learning to live with the scar. It’s learning to let it be part of who you are, to create a life with this piece as part of your landscape.”
(You know I have a thing for smart girls. And Juli is one classy lady.)