My Son Walked Across the Graduation Stage Wearing a Bright Red Dress While Hundreds of People Laughed. I Was the Only Person in the Auditorium Who Knew Why.

Grief does not arrive as one weather.

In our house it arrived as two climates under one roof.

I kept Lily in ordinary sentences.

I said her name when the first snow came, because she had loved snow more than cake.

I said it when a red bird landed on the feeder.

I said it on her birthday in a voice that did not ask Caleb’s permission.