The real hell of this," he told her, "is that you're going to get through it. — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
Near the end I asked him one night in the hospital corridor what he thought was happening, and he said, "Tell her everything you haven't said," and I smiled with relief. "There's nothing," I said. "I've already told her everything. — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
“The other thing I know now, is that we survive grief merely and surely by outlasting it. The ongoing fact of the narrative eclipses… — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
The only education in grief that any of us ever gets is a crash course. — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
Maybe this is the point: to embrace the core sadness of life without toppling headlong into it, or assuming it will define your days. — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
The real hell of this," he told her, "is that you're going to get through it. — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
Grief doesn't necessarily make you noble. Sometimes it just makes you crazy, or primitive with fear. — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
You can’t change the tale so that you turned left one day instead of right, or didn’t make the mistake that might have saved… — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
“From the first winter afternoon in the Harvard ball fields, "Oh no--I need you" had become an admission and a clarion call--the tenet of… — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
“Most of us wander in and out of one another's lives until not death, but distance, does us part--time and space and the heart's… — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
What they never tell you about grief is that missing someone is the simple part. — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
memory is both the curse of grief and the eventual talisman against it; what at first seems unbearable becomes the succor that can outlast… — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
“Counting on each other became automatic. When I found a sweater in Texas I wanted, I learned to buy two, which was easier than… — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures. — Gail Caldwell Copy Share Image
