My grief is about a lot of things, all failure:
I failed to be a good husband. She wouldn't have hurt me if I were better.
I failed to be a good father. My daughter reminds me of this regularly.
I failed to be a productive member of society. I've been on disability for 12 years.
I failed to take care of my parents and to be a good son. I can barely stand the sight of them after almost two years of devoting my life to their care.
I failed as a human. I have nothing to show that I've done to make anyone's life better, including and especially my own.
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