The EARLY DAYS OF GRIEF A survival manual

The lack of magic words to cure grief really pissed me off, to be honest. Before my mom died, words had been my solace. They had been able to describe, in minute detail, how I felt. They had offered a way to vent or explain or move through feelings that always made me feel better. They had been a bridge to other people.

But suddenly they didn’t work. All I could do was describe the facts and try, somehow, to wrap my head around them.

My mom was a healthy 72-year-old. In late May, she started