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There is a certain heaviness of body and soul in carrying the burden of grief through this world; as though you are carrying the weight of your loved one on your back and, if you do not push against it, your knees will buckle and you will collapse under the burden. I feel as though I am carrying both me and my Father through life now, the little carrying the big--and at times I fear I will not be able to continue; but at the same time I fear laying down my burden. Something, strange though it might sound; something dies in me at the thought of moving on if that moving on means moving on without him. The thought suffocates my soul and leaves me a shattered woman. I just want him back, my heart and soul; and I want him back alive and well. I know there will come a day when I see my Father again; till then I must survive. I will not die; I refuse. Yet, I will not be well again, I know, until I meet him again on the other side of this thing called Grief.


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