It’s been a year since my husband died, and on the 15th of every month, I visit his grave… just me, the quiet, and our memories. But someone kept getting there before me, always leaving fresh flowers. Who could it be? The moment I found out… I froze in tears.
They say grief changes shape, but never truly goes away. After 35 years of marriage, I found myself standing in our kitchen alone, startled by the silence where Danny’s morning shuffle should have been.
One year after the accident, I still reached for him in my sleep. The emptiness of waking up without him hadn’t gotten easier… I’d just gotten better at carrying it.
“Mom? Are you ready?” Alice stood in the doorway, the car keys jingling in her hand. My daughter had her father’s warm brown eyes with flecks of gold when the light hit them just right.