What I Can Still SeeI didn’t think I was grieving when my ex-husband died this summer, but my body told a different story.
I slept poorly, overate and mistakenly drove toward our long-ago home, not my present one.
Friends wrote sympathy notes, saying they hoped I would “treasure the good times.” It surprised me that I could.
In the old photos our adult children asked for, I can see the pleasure we were having.
This may be another gift of aging: Without dismissing the awful times, it’s still possible to hold the joys.
Persons:
it’s, Wendy Lichtman