Death is a mirror in which only our shortcomings and insecurities reflect back.
I can’t say it has been easy learning to live without you. Heading into year three, I can say I have started to make real progress. I can talk about your death without crying. I can look people in the eye and tell them how you died. And now I finally feel like I can be honest with you. Okay, not with you per se, but I can be honest with myself about you.
If I were forced to claim allegiance to one kingdom, I would be wearing the Family Crest of Eternal Silence across my chest. When I am mad at someone, I say nothing because I know if I start to speak, all that will come out is the wrathful hissing of my inner pit viper that threatens to poison everything with hateful, vituperous words.