Comparing the brain to soft tofu, Beckman’s sparity was commanding. When she noticed her husband’s eye, I almost missed its significance—she’d gone suddenly sotto voce. Command wasn’t lost but creeping misery morphed into a grinding life. By the time she decided she had to survive for herself, I saw her anger was also mine. My husband and I were married 33 years; his dying lasted agonizing months, his entire being profoundly altered. I hadn’t realized before reading this article that along with my grief, I was MAD. Why me, we ask? Inextricable loss is relentless. Yet life requires resilience. When there is nothing left to offer, we must learn to leave lost love behind—or follow into the grave. The heart doesn’t harden but must heal. The scar of grief is indelible, yet there is, too, a kind of resurrection in peace.
Comparing the brain to soft tofu, Beckman’s sparity was commanding. When she noticed her husband’s eye, I almost missed its significance—she’d gone suddenly sotto voce. Command wasn’t lost but creeping misery morphed into a grinding life. By the time she decided she had to survive for herself, I saw her anger was also mine. My husband and I were married 33 years; his dying lasted agonizing months, his entire being profoundly altered. I hadn’t realized before reading this article that along with my grief, I was MAD. Why me, we ask? Inextricable loss is relentless. Yet life requires resilience. When there is nothing left to offer, we must learn to leave lost love behind—or follow into the grave. The heart doesn’t harden but must heal. The scar of grief is indelible, yet there is, too, a kind of resurrection in peace.
What an absolutely brilliant and shocking and deeply human story, and so powerfully told. Wow, a superlative choice, Mark.