People gave me what they thought was good advice: to give myself time to grieve and to get over the death of my only child. I am never going to get over Anne’s death. I realize that now. I understand why people said it and I appreciate the impulse they had to be sympathetic and helpful. I tried to get over it but, well, just no. It won’t happen. I will never stop missing her. I will never stop second-guessing and wondering ”what if.” I’ve accepted that fact. But I also realize that I need to do things other than mourn.
Specifically, I need to get back to writing. I’m not sure why that’s been so hard. Friends seem to think that getting back to work will be good for me. They could be right. I do know that at some point I have to start writing again, so perhaps that point should be now. So here goes. I won’t get over it but maybe I can get on with it.
