What sorts of things do you google when your favorite person in the world is determined to leave it?

She told me that the brain is built to forget things as we continue to live, that memories are meant to fade and disintegrate, that skin, so protective in the beginning because it has to be to protect our organs, saga eventually - because the organs aren't so hot anymore either - and sharp edges become blunt, that the pain of letting go of grief is just as panful or even more painful than the grief itself.

That the pain of letting go of grief is just as painful or even more painful than the grief itself. It means goodbye.

But love, like a mushroom high compared with the buzz from cheap weed, outlasts grief.

During that time, The Mouth came by to pray with us, and my dad began to spend his evenings sitting in the yellow lawn chair and staring at the highway, or down in the basement with his isotope material, finding comfort in the stability that's created from decay.