Life goes on. Quickly, I would add. Grief can cause us to feel like it’s easy to exist and hard to live.
I remember when my life was normal. I got up, I went to work, I went to college, and I was a normal 23 year old figuring out life. Then one morning at work I was told my dad was shot and killed. In one moment, whatever normalcy I knew was no longer. The first few days, people are there and concerned. Soon after, life moves on. I did not. Not at first.
I began living my life again. I remember not having a place to land with grief. I never talked about my dad very much. I never shared much about his case or his murder. It was as if that part of my life never really existed. I did not realize this until I began to open up and help others. I listened to others and it became a sudden need for me. Grief, the notion of it. Grief became the most relatable feeling for me.
I’m sharing this because grief is a walk, a run, and a journey. Murder loss is a layered, complicated road. One minute, it feels like being thrashed by hard waves; the next, like soaring in the wind.
If we blink, we miss it all—the joys, the painful moments, and grief’s need to be grieved. Injustice in murder loss creates a dual loss. Cases may find closure, but grief does not. Our grief is here to stay. Will you befriend yours?
"The only cure for grief is to grieve."
-Earl Grollman
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