by Tom Swift

A characteristic of grief is that it can keep you from feeling things you want to or need to feel. Not just the so-called good feelings, either — happiness, joy, pleasure. Though, to be sure. Sometimes grief, which I imagine, if one wants to visualize it as an entity all its own, as a sort of fog, a personal fog that circles us, covers us and yet also extends beyond us so as to be possibly felt by others in our presence, gets in the way so that we can’t access fully the feelings we must feel in order to be human. It sucks to not be able to feel sad. To not be able to access empathy. To not be able to allow the full range of human emotions to flow through you. You still have those feelings, of course, and sometimes you glimpse them, feel them, but they are very often caught in the fog — lingering, stealing energy, weighing you down, clouding your vision that much more.