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Grief is like a jagged rock that you bury deep in your pocket, Its sharp edges forcing you to take it out and examine it from time to time. Even when you don’t want to, and when it is too heavy to carry, you must ask a friend to hold it so you can rest. As time passes it is a little easier to take the rock out of your pocket. It doesn’t seem to weigh as much. Now you show it to a circle of friends and, occasionally, even a stranger. One day you pull out the rock and surprisingly, it doesn’t even hurt. For the edges are no longer jagged, but smoothed out by time, touch and tears. (Author unknown)


Notepad_icon       Journal a few thoughts to express (process) feelings.