Regret And Grief: The Difference Between Regret And Grief

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The Difference Between Regret and Grief I’ve always been numb to death, never experienced the emotion that is grief. When my grandfather died I was too young to care, too little to understand. The day that one of our closest family friends died a few months ago, I didn’t even shed a tear. It isn’t the death that hurts, it’s the fact that I can’t seem to remember them. I’ll never be able to recall my grandfather’s voice as he read to me on the old, leather recliner he loved so much. Not remember all of the names of Jolene’s flowers in the garden we spent days working on. I can’t remember, and the recollections will continue to fade until I reach the point where their faces become blurry, and the only thing left of them is a name of someone I used to care for. The death of my dog Cade wasn't the most ground-shaking, heart-shattering moment, but the things I've learned from it are immeasurable. The room was silent, except a few forks scraping against the old porcelain plates that my family was …show more content…

Every second, perfectly timed and the only noise to be heard in the room besides the secretary typing hurriedly on their desktops. The seats were unbearably uncomfortable, the cushions firm, hard, and the seat itself far too big for my little girl frame to get adjusted to. Beside me, my sister clicked her tongue, swinging her legs up and down for what seemed like forever before that old wooden door opened. A tall brunette stepped out, pulling on Cade’s leash, urging him to return to us. My mother stepped forward smiling appreciatively to the nurse before gently tugging on the lead. The small black dog stumbled out hesitantly, the black fur from his stomach now gone and replaced with pale pink skin. I didn’t know what to feel seeing him like that, every ounce of joy and innocence stripped clean off of him as his always wagging tail lay limp. My sister charged up to him, scratching at his scruff. I couldn't find it in myself to do

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