Writing without the deeply personal is not the whole story of grief. To give the whole story, to give as many handholds as possible in the steep climb of grief, we need to hear personal stories. Each Friday, I’ll post something from my own experience of grief and love. It’s an inside look at love, at grief, at life.
New Year’s Eve was never a holiday that mattered to me, but 2009 was different. My partner, Matt, had drowned that summer. The last day of the year meant entering a year in which he had never lived and a new year he would never see.
I was slumped over on the kitchen counter when my phone rang. It was my friend Rick. When I answered, he said, “There’s a New Year’s ritual I started awhile back. I go to the grocery store, buy a lobster, bring it to the beach, and set it free. I think of it as a second chance for the lobsters — and for me. I figure this might have some meaning for you.”