Wendy Sumner-Winter

“I must spare my lovedones my endless roiling thoughts. I must conceal just how hard grief's iron clamp is.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Notes on Grief

“And you’ll miss me more as the narrowing weeks wing by. Someday duly, oneday truly, twosday newly, till whensday.”
― James Joyce, Finnegans Wake

“My sister Uche says she has just told a family friend by text, and I almost scream, “No! Don’t tell anyone, because if we tell people, then it becomes true.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Notes on Grief

“But I cannot always run, and each time I am forced to squarely confront my grief—when I read the death certificate, when I draft a death announcement—I feel a shimmering panic. In such moments, I notice a curious physical reaction: my body begins to shake, fingers tap uncontrollably, one leg bobbing. I am unable to quiet myself until I look away. How do people walk around functioning in the world after losing a beloved father? For the first time in my life, I am enamored of sleeping pills, and, in the middle of a shower or a meal, I burst into tears.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Notes on Grief