It’s nearly midnight. I’m exhausted and hopeful sleep will come soon. I crawl into my mother’s bed where I had slept for several weeks. The sound of Dad’s rhythmic snoring in the next room reminds me of those same sounds I heard in my childhood. It evokes a peaceful feeling, knowing he’s OK.
Read MoreOne major lesson I’ve learnt is that grief is processed differently by different people.
Read MoreI’ve always had a roar in my chest. Something loud and rumbling, just beneath the surface.
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