Sometimes people who are important to us--parents, teachers, lovers, friends--wound us. Suddenly, unexpectedly, irrevocably. Sometimes these wounds are never healed and leave us bitter, hardened, broken. Over time, the bitterness and hardness can soften, the broken part can mend, but that person's hurtful actions leave us forever changed.
When that person dies, we go through a specific kind of grief--not a sweet grief for the loss of a loving presence, but a tough grief for the loss of what was taken away when that person hurt us.
Morales cries when she hears Karp died because the passing of someone who was important is sad. But she feels "nothing" because that was the survival mechanism she learned when he wounded her.
Updated On: 4/15/05 at 01:29 PM