Grief wounds: it strikes; it overwhelms. It convulses the body, threatening to shake it apart like a flimsily constructed toy. It is an almost physical thing: we bear its weight; we break beneath it. Grief is an emotion, not just of the brain, but of the entire nervous system: it reaches the legs and lungs. It can crush the air from us, enervate our limbs, hurl us to the ground; some never rise again. Asked to speak, we choke as if gasping for breath: unhappy as we are, we cannot heave our hearts into our mouths. Sometimes silence speaks love best.
זכרונה לברכה
This was outstanding. I will likely return to it sometime soon, just to process what I might have missed.