A Grief Observed
The window to write this, I know, has passed. The subject has been exhausted, what happened has happened and we are here. The day after, I walked through a North Carolina airport in a determined daze—crying and deliberately looking any stranger who would let me, right in the eyes. I was manic and furious and the task felt aggressive. It felt like my right. More people than you would think met my sobbing gaze. Each time, I would look away first.