Some mornings, I said something to it.

Other mornings, I avoided the cabinet entirely.

Grief did not arrive in one enormous wave and then recede.

It came when I heard a car in the driveway and thought Patrick had returned.

It came when I reached for a second portion while cooking.

It came when the kitchen faucet dripped and I remembered telling him we should fix it before he left.

I began doing small practical things.