On a different journey

Grief, is always most easily expressed when alone.

The smallest of things can bring back the biggest wave of memories, and the tear ducts would leak. At first a small trickle, later a big uncontrollable rush. And if no one is around, the effect can easily snowball. The lonely echo encouraging increasingly louder sobs, perhaps a feeble attempt to convince oneself that he is not alone, that all is not lost, and that if he cries hard, loud and long enough, perhaps the lost one could hear and would return. And all would be well again.

It's a childish, desperate thought. A useless, self-pitying act. The lost is gone. And would never return. The only way to reunite would be to go on the same journey. And it is... sad to say, not now. Not yet.

It's alright to grief, isn't it? But is there a time to stop? If one keeps grieving, and never learns to let go, what would happen? Would the eyes become so swollen, they pop? Would tear ducts become so choked, they rot? Would the mind become so sad, it closes? Would friends once so dear, leave in exasperation? Would career once so promising, meander into dumps? Would health go? Would...

Never mind. It's ren(2) ri(4). Go and have your happy family dinner.

Never underestimate.. the power of love.