My favorite paragraph in the book: Things I have been silent about

"Those who are close to us, when they die, divide our world. There is the world of living, which we finally, in one way or another, succumb to, and then there is the domain of the dead that like an imaginary friend or foe or a secret concubine, constantly beckons, reminding us of our loss. What is memory but a ghost that lurks at the corners of the mind, interrupting our normal course of life, disrupting our sleep in order to remind us of some acute pain or pleasure, or how they felt about us, but ultimately how they allowed us to feel about ourselves or them."