“You’ll get through this”, that’s what people say. Don’t they? They said it to me and it really pissed me off. What exactly does it mean to get through this? Through what? What’s on the other side? I didn’t wanna get through it. I wanted to die in it. And then my mom, she said that grief is like a suitcase that’s at the bottom of your bed. And no matter what, without failure, you have to pick it up everyday, take it with you. Some days it will be filled with rocks and you won’t think you can carry it. And then other days, the light is a feather. That she said is getting through it. It made sense to me.
Claire: My father. He set us up. He’d drove his car into a ditch trying to avoid… hitting a deer, and it was dark out. His phone wasn’t getting any service, and… Just when he thought he would have to spend the night sleeping in his car… There you were. On leave from training, in your uniform. He said you looked like some… Damn superhero.