Grief hit me like a tornado. Grief that was too large to be contained within a small beating organ. Maybe I needed a jar as big as this earth to pour the contents of my heart into. I imagined losing feeling in that organ that insisted on aching with every beat. But the sadness was larger than me. I had two options: Grow numb or face it. I found strength in facing, even as it crushed me, even if the pain felt like a jagged shard of glass being dragged against my heart, even if my lungs felt as if they were on fire, desperately needing air. Even then. I chose to face it. And I grieved. Until the tornado passed and calm took over.

(This post is dedicated to my beautiful cat, Cotton who died couple nights ago. May we meet again in Jannah.)