“Much like trains in India, grief is a circular, irrational process with no discernible rhythm or timetable. Here it comes, there it goes.” — Suzanne Finnamore Copy Share Image
“To keep myself from harming or calling N and to stave off the rage and despair, I focus on my extraordinary son, drink midrange Chardonnay every night after he is asleep, and make a barrage of late-night mail-order retail purchases placed from the couch. The couch has officially become my second battle station. I am angry and I have credit… — Suzanne Finnamore Copy Share
“The Betty Lady explains love and splitting up: "It´s like playing the shell game with Jesus. You can´t figure anything out; it´s best not… — Suzanne Finnamore Copy Share Image
“ Gains There is no man in the house that I have to try to make happy. There are no more arguments, or nights when I turn away from N in quiet dispair as he snores with an entitled regularity. Everything also stays cleaner; the toilet seat is perpetually down. I have the remote control to the television; no one… — Suzanne Finnamore Copy Share
“This is much worse than losing a cat. You do not wish the cat dead, for example, after the first two days. You still love the cat and presumably the cat still loves you, or some variation of love that may in fact be dependence and even indifference. People should be informed, as adopting a cat and becoming married take… — Suzanne Finnamore Copy Share
“How can I grieve what is still in motion?" I ask her. "Shoes are still dropping all over the place. I´m not kidding," I… — Suzanne Finnamore Copy Share Image
“I've felt basically lucky ever since, almost every day of my life. That's something else love should make you feel. It should make you fell fortunate. It will be made clear to you in a stray gesture, the line of a throat. Something in the hands. There may or may not be any music playing. But there will be a… — Suzanne Finnamore Copy Share
“I have a new mantra, which I chant softly to myself: "Oh My God Oh My God.” — Suzanne Finnamore Copy Share Image
