I came across a video on BBC showing how grief might be illustrated, how it truly changes over time and how, in reality, it always remains a part of us. With that analogy, it somehow sparked a parallel image in my head.
The grief, even if we choose to gloss over it, becomes this indelible presence juxtaposed with the growing collection of thing marking all the milestones of our life.
The spine might fade in the sunlight, yellowing pages will fall out, and its cover will definitely gather dust, but our grief is a book whose pages we can flip through and go back to whenever it compels us.
Without changing in weight, significance or meaning, it shall always and simply be another facet of our existence, and one of the myriad of stories in our constantly changing life.