When someone we love dies, we lose their presence, the physical, everyday world of companionship. Their voice, expressions, the way they moved through a room, the warmth of shared glances, and the familiarity of conversations that needed no preamble all disappear. This is the most immediate and recognisable face of grief: the aching absence where a living presence once existed…

There is a certain stillness that grief brings. It is not merely an empty space, but a slowing of the world around us, a quieting of urgency, a halt to the impulse to fix, solve, or explain. In grief, life no longer flows in straight lines. Instead, it folds back on itself, weighed down with memory and absence. We are faced with a truth that cannot be altered: something has ended, or someone we love is no longer with us.