I didn’t stay for the meal , drinks and the stories. I wish I had. I left as my lift was leaving. When I arrived home D had asked why was I back so early? He would have come and got me later,I didn’t need to go when my lift was going.
The truth is, I knew that, but I was afraid to stay. It was a good excuse to leave. I’m not good with expressing my own emotions,so when I’m met with a huge grieving family,who I love dearly, I panicked. I saw a way I could leave and I took it.
I’m feeling guilty for that. I want to go out and visit them,but I don’t drive, so I’ve to wait until someone else is going or until D has time off.
I can’t imagine what they are all going through and I really don’t know what to say to them.
Grief is an awful, complicated,confusing emotion.
Every time I feel like this a voice creeps in and reminds me,one day I’ll be part of that grieving family,I’ll be the one people will shake the hand of and tell me they are sorry for my loss.
It comes to us all. The dark cold face of death knocks at everyone’s door, I know. Still, it doesn’t make it any easier.


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