They don’t tell you even though your grandmother died basically of old age, this fact won’t be enough to quell the rage you feel over losing her at all.

They don’t tell you that you will be just as enraged nine months after her death as you were the day she died.

They don’t tell you the rage will become so intense you’ll want to take every plate, glass and mug in your house and throw them against the wall.

They don’t tell you that every time something just barely annoys you, rage will come pouring out.

They don’t tell you that so few people will understand how you feel.

They don’t tell you that people will tell you to “get over it” because they have no compassion or empathy in their hearts.

They don’t tell you that people will foolishly think they have the right to tell you how to feel.

They don’t tell you your grief is always just below the surface, even when, for a brief, precious moment, you forget it’s there.

They don’t tell you this is why you shouldn’t disturb the water.

They don’t tell you that sometimes the pain of being alive will be too much.

They don’t tell you the old you is gone and never coming back.

They don’t tell you it will take an excruciatingly long time to heal.

They don’t tell you that love never dies.