I am not sure how it was I stumbled onto the subject, which has preoccupied my mind for the last week...perhaps it was the murder/suicide of some people I was casually friendly with, or perhaps something entirely different, but I ran acrosss this paragraph on a
website devoted to grief: - Everyone has heard about the famous "Dear John" letters that
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I spent the past spring facing the fact of my father's age when a sudden illness put him in a hospital bed for a month. I coped with it with the typical Protestant denial-through-frenetic-helpfulness.
I was both somewhat surprised and disappointed with myself, as months later I was calm enough to reflect and really started freaking out.
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