Today is one of those days when I am tired of myself and the undertow of my forever grief. It’s not anything anyone else can see; especially after all these years it would not occur to anyone that I still miss her terribly. How do I explain the hole in my soul, that is smaller then day one, but still unfilled? Grief is such a secret in this culture that even mentioning it people turn away. That is probably the great divide between people. The difference in the experience of the bereaved and the nonbereaved. The nonbereaved can be happy, don’t worry.