Grief trickles in the background of every bereaved person’s life. No one else can hear it, or experience it. It’s a silent communing. It comes into prominence with the minutest of events – a familiar smell, the sound of a voice, a cartoon, a board game. And once its presence is felt, it is hard to undo, hard to forget. A rush of emotions flood you. It will claim your attention. And then it will take your leave, till the next time, the next marker of remembrance strikes you.