Half a Heart

by Karen McQuestion

There was something about facing an impossible task, breaking it down into small parts, and getting the job done that she found immensely satisfying.

“If you’re wondering why we all look so different, it’s because most of us are linked by love rather than blood.”

Maybe all grandmothers were the same—old and kind and good at making food.

Through the window, he saw it coming down in sheets. Lightning flashed, followed by thunder, rumbling like a

mountain avalanche. It was, as Grandma Nan would say, a good day to be a duck.

His father’s words had been said so many times that Logan had begun to believe him, but he knew now they weren’t true. Sometimes you had to leave to get a clear view of where you’d been.

Grief is one of those emotions that hangs on, popping up when you don’t expect it. All we can do is keep going and cherish the ones we love, like I cherish you.”

Someday, when he was a grown-up, he hoped to find a lady just like Ms. Tracey, and then they’d fall in love and get married and have children. Their house would have lots of laughing and no yelling, unless it was the kind of yelling that people did when they were joking around. There would always be plenty to eat, and the kids would have good-fitting clothes, and they’d each own more than one pair of nice shoes. In the wintertime, all of them would have warm jackets and gloves and waterproof boots. They’d be happy, so happy, and they’d love each other.