Week 48 – It’s what we don’t talk about that hurts us.

I woke early one morning last week to find the sun streaming through a maple tree outside my bedroom window, one of the last to hang on to its lacy yellow hands.

As the rising light illuminated the leaves, I thought of my dad.

I’ll never be able to share the beauty of this earth with him again in this lifetime I realized as I lay in bed taking in the late autumn show.

Grief is like a shadow you can’t shake. As I go about my daily routine, one minute I feel normal as I drop packages off at the...