“Here’s what I know: death abducts the dying, but grief steals from those left behind.”

“And, here’s what I know: I’m not drowning anymore. I can’t see my island; he’s gone forever from me now, but I’m standing on life’s shore again. I am here.”

“Grief is like cancer. It ebbs and flows within you. Then, it changes and transforms you. Forever. Grief. Cancer. Both force you to face your worst fear—death. Grief and cancer. Both undermine your optimism of life. You finally see the cup is really just half full, even if you believed otherwise your whole life. Both teach you to believe that bad things can happen to people, whether they’re good or bad or rich or poor or young or old, alike. Grief and cancer corner the market for all. Grief and cancer take all comers. Both rule. Do they always win? I begin to wonder.”

“He’s gone, incinerated for all time. I am the ashes left behind, soaked with too many tears, and burdened with an infinite future I cannot see. Our life together is finished.”

“The pain is too much, the loss too great. There is no more before, and the after is too devastating. There isn’t enough of me left to go on. Grief has stolen too much of me now.”

“Am I Carrie, now? I sway with the movement of the elevator. I close my eyes and try to think. I could never be Carrie. No one can. That’s the thing. Always. I could never be Carrie. I could never be Carrie. I could never be Carrie. I can feel the tears sting behind my eyes. I can never be Carrie. Now, I can’t even be Ellie.”

“When you’re married, you’re privy to the misunderstanding. When you’re not married, it’s overrated.” I try to smile. “You rush in, headlong, full of dreams and wishes, so far removed from reality that you never even realize you’ve married into a family and the Navy. One refers to you as the girl from L.A., and the other refers to you as the dependent spouse.”