For a long time, I believed that the absence of crying meant an absence of sorrow. What I interpreted as coldness was in reality a pain so deep that it could only be expressed in secret. The truth, discovered many years later, changed everything.
When emotions fall silent
For many years, I was convinced that my husband, Julien, was impervious to all emotion. He was naturally reserved, almost inscrutable in his discretion. The day our son was taken from us, while I was overwhelmed by an ocean of sorrow, remained disconcertingly stoic. He did not shed a tear, did not let out a sob.
In the hospital, he stood at a distance, frozen. During the ceremony, his face remained unmoved. Back in our house, now too large and too quiet, he threw himself wholeheartedly into his work and the small routines of everyday life. To me, it was the sign of an insensitive heart. And this misunderstanding, over time,
