At 70, I flew home from the funeral of the man I spent 43 years with. I texted our family group chat:

…because someone else would notice what my own family didn’t… and the whole neighborhood would hear about it at the same time my son did. I didn’t sleep much that night. Grief doesn’t let you.

It just rearranges the hours so you sit in them longer than you should. By morning, I was standing in the kitchen with a cup of coffee I wasn’t drinking, staring continue reading …