A father who has lost his most beloved child pushes away every hand that reaches for him, and something terrible and instructive lives in that refusal. Grief of this depth confronts the absolute limit, the place where the story a man tells himself about the future breaks against the wall of death. Jacob will not be comforted because comfort would be a lie, and part of him knows it. He would rather carry the wound whole than let it be smoothed over with words that do not reach the bottom of what happened.
And yet a man can build his identity so completely around one love that its loss becomes a slow descent he chooses. To mourn is right. To decide to go down mourning is to hand the rest of your life to the dead. The task is to bear the grief without letting it become the whole of who you are.