When the Rain Ends

by Mary Ellen Taylor

She and that house were old friends, and as she stood now in this strange new place, she didn’t feel any excitement at the possibility of this grand new adventure. She felt slightly adrift, lost.

Do not squander time. It is the stuff life is made of.

“Don’t dig into old wounds. You got plenty of fresh ones to tend, old girl.”

But that’s what grief did. It was patient, always lurking in the shadows, ready to spoil a happy moment, sour a day, or prompt unexpected tears.

“It never goes away. Most days, it does lose its edge, but every so often, when you least expect it, grief cuts. And maybe that’s not so terrible. That jab is a reminder that you loved her very much.”