“I swear he is there,his arms outstretched,the waterfall beneath him,cascading into thecool bluewater below.Go on, Ava. It’s going to be great!It’s not a dare.Not this time.But it’s almost like I’m on that high dive again,scared of what comes next,yet knowing at the same timeit will all be okay.”

“Are you ever afraid to go to sleep? Afraid of what comes next?”He smiles a sad little smile and I swear it’s like he knows. “Sometimes I’m afraid of what I’m leaving behind,” he says.”

“He put his hand on mine. I fell into him, knowing what he would do, what he must do, and he did. He opened his arms and held me, and I let him embrace me. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay.”

“It’s okay to be crazy and scared and brave at the same time!”

“It’s strange,” I say, rubbing my feet against his. “I feel like I should be sad, but I’m not. It’s not that I won’t miss you, but it just feels like-”“Like everything is going to be okay anyway,” he says, finishing my thought.”

“The interesting thing about grief, I think, is that it is its own size. It is not the size of you. It is its own size. And grief comes to you. You know what I mean? I’ve always liked that phrase “He was visited by grief,” because that’s really what it is. Grief is its own thing. It’s not like it’s in me and I’m going to deal with it. It’s a thing, and you have to be okay with its presence. If you try to ignore it, it will be like a wolf at your door.”