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When did life itself become a treatable mental disorder?

(Ashley Hutcheson For The Globe and Mail)

Grief is a new psychic territory. You cross into an altered land, and meet the residents, who greet you as if inviting you into their tribe. They are kindred. You may have only known them glancingly before, across tables at a dinner party, or down the hall, but now you know them, for this passage that you and they have made.

Sometimes, several years slip by with us attired in the proverbial widow’s black. Poetry and music resonate in new ways. Joy is sweeter; sorrow deeper. Sobbing helps. Time, eventually, heals, although we are never the same. Some change utterly.

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