Grief is not a law-abiding citizen. It is a renegade, an ever-changing beast. Grief is a labyrinth. Expecting it to follow a straightforward path is like expecting water to run uphill. It just isn’t going to happen. You experience it once, twice even four or five times and you are no more prepared to experience it again than you were when you were a grief virgin. It’s always new. That’s the awful magic of grief – all magic aside, of course. This is because no grief is the same. Not ever. Each time we grieve it is different and unique because our losses ...