C.S. Lewis wrote, in his book A Grief Observed, that grief is like a bomber plane circling round above dropping its bombs each time the circle brings it overhead; physical pain is like the steady barrage on a trench in WWI, hours of it with no let-up for a moment. Thought is never static, pain often is.
Whether it be described as the tide, coming in and out...constant and expected or described like the bomber circling overhead, sporadic and unexpected, one thing is certain...grief is painful. I never expected it to hurt this much.
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