Grief begs me to be resentful.

It’s limited to the mantra “it’s not fair”.

It thinks, if I hear that enough, I will believe it, but it does not know the Power that lives in me.

Grief whispers that “nothing will ever be as good”, but it does not know the miracles that I believe in.

Grief taunts me to be bitter but it does not know the depth of my gratefulness.

Grief entices me to do things that it does not know I have the strength to decline.

Grief teaches me to make different/better choices.

Grief, as much as I need(ed) you, you are limited in your ability to know anything but my past.