It hurts to live after someone has died. It just does. It can hurt to walk down a hallway or open the fridge. It hurts to put on a pair of socks, to brush your teeth. Food tastes like nothing. Colors go flat. Music hurts, and so do memories. You look at something you’d otherwise find beautiful — a purple sky at sunset or a playground full of kids — and it only somehow deepens the loss. Grief is so lonely this way.
In the end, Hillary Clinton won nearly three million more votes than her opponent, but Trump captured the Electoral College thanks to fewer than eighty thousand votes spread across Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, and Michigan. I am not a political person, so I’m not going to attempt to offer an analysis of the results. I won’t try to speculate about who was responsible or what was unfair. I just wish more people had turned out to vote. And I will always wonder about what led so many women, in particular, to reject an exceptionally qualified female candidate and instead choose a misogynist as their president. But the result was now ours to live with.
The grief quote is so true. The world looses its color and you wonder how all these people around you can function. It’s a lonely road even when you have others to grieve with. I have found in my limited experience that senses are dulled but then sometimes heightened… I could go a whole day without a tear and then someone smiles at me sympathetically or the sunset is especially beautiful and suddenly I’m a puddle of tears. Grief is unexpected and the path unknown . Which is why we need to walk gently with the grieving ( and sometimes just sit in their silence// per your prior blog post).
Wishing you all the best
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