But I don't judge him or tell him that I think he is full of shit and grief. I just let him do it his way. Who am I to say what works? Dead babies don't get you some sort of special manual, you know.
So, with that in mind...this very recent conversation pissed me off:
me: Have you seen the medical reords?
him: The what?
me: Elijah's medical records. I had them out the other day. I want to scan this picture of his MRI and compare it to a 'normal brain' side by side.
him: Oh. I see.
me: What. where is it?
him: I don't know. but you are 'doing the work.'
him: It's the stage when you take grief and turn it...(wait for it)...into something else.
I had to go away and cry for a moment. At his daunting level of transcendence.