Three years after my divorce, I gave my youngest daughter my wedding shoes.
They fit perfectly, their pale blue leather straps showcasing the arch of her foot and their three-inch heels elevating her elfin grace.
Some days the weight of my sorrow bends my back and threatens to break my shoulders.
When my oldest daughter, on break from serving as a reservist in the army, visited our home in Vermont, I announced that we would empty the storage locker together.
I thought it would be a visible sign of my healing, demonstrate that I was moving forward with my life.
Locations:
England, Vermont