Life teaches you many things. Grief, is just one of them. It leaves you seeking for answers, it leaves you screaming out for them, suffocating you with its questions unanswered, wringing your existence with its roller coaster twists and turns gaping for air, and just as you think you have just managed to breathe a lungful of air, drowning you in vaccum that you cannot even exhale that air that you have just taken in.
Is it a good thing or is it bad? One knows not, all one knows is, that thus is life, and it gives you, but one opportunity, to willfully end it. But to end it thus would mean allowing life to triumph over you, gloat about its victory and tell its peers that you could not bear life, and hence have chosen the more mundane and dead, death.

The loss of a dear one, is always unbearable, the loss of a progeny, is unspeakable. It is grief, when your present becomes past, what is it, when future becomes past? It is anger when someone who is a part of life, ceases to be, what is it when someone who is a part of self ceases to be?

Did one just call death mundane and dead? One was never more wrong in my statements. Death is not mundane, death is living, pulsating, it is the ever spreading octopus which with its poisonous tentacles, taints the essence of the living, shrivels it up and leaves nothing but the husk.

The husk, which needs a D&C.