It seems odd to think that Stewie has been silenced. That I will get no more IKEA pillow hugs. The fragility of life seems so anti-climactic. I have been thinking of all the poetic lines and thinking - yeah that's how it is. "Do not go gentle into that good night" or "the world ends not with a bang but a whimper"
If only there were things to occupy my hands, so that my mind doesn't take over. But I think that's the course of it. Lay down your hands so that your heart opens to grief. So that grief can become etched into the story silently.
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