I've been thinking and writing a lot about grief lately. And recently, about its likeness to wearing an oversized, weathered, leather coat. Ill-fitting, yet comfortable. Uncomfortable, yet we're not ready to shed it. It brings warmth. And closeness to all that was. "Like a heavy, oversized, weathered leather coat. Ill-fitting, yet familiar. The stories this coat could tell. A broken zipper, a missing button, and tattered cuffs, with some of the color worn off. The edges a little more rough than the smoothness of the middle. Such is the coat. And our lives. Or grief." When I write, hell - even when I think, I do so with visual images, comparisons, and analogies. I paint pictures in my mind with my words. And the other day, when thinking about grief, I kept picturing a tattered, oversized, black leather coat. And how wearing this coat, feels much like how we wear grief. You can read more of this post, at the link in the profile. For those wearing an oversized coat of grief right n...