My Mimi gifted me with this gold earring before she passed. She wore this silly thing all the time when I was small- it has my teething marks all over it (which I love.) She’s been gone two years now and this is the first time I’ve been able to wear it. It’s not because it hurts less to see it, but because I am familiar enough with the pain to deal with it. They told me I would heal with time. Ah, that’s bullshit. I didn’t heal, I just got stronger. I learned to live with the pain; it’s part of me now. It’s a gentle ache that will never go away. A reminder that she lived and that I loved her. I’m not a grief expert, but it seems our culture is unreasonably afraid of pain, in any form. We run from it, hide from it and medicate it as to escape it at all costs. Stop running. Let it come. Face it. It will hurt, it will be messy and that’s okay. Take that bitch by the hand and dance. You’ve got this.