“That was all part of the grieving process, he supposed...knowing those whom you loved were dead was one thing. Coming to accept that they would never walk through your front door again, that was all fine and well and good...eventually. It was the flip side of that coin; looking to the outside from well within your own little pocket of grief, that was what took getting used to. You looked at the outside world through a tiny window and hoped that window would get bigger and allow you to see more of the beauty which lay beyond, but the window grew only as fast or as slow as it wished to, and no amount of hoping or begging or cajoling or willing it to would ever alter its progress. It grew only over the course of an indeterminate amount of time, and nothing but time would ever persuade it otherwise.”