After My Husband’s Funeral I Stayed Silent On The …

sunset, holding a glass of wine, looking at the same view Michael and I had shared years ago. The cypress trees were black against an orange sky. The air smelled like wood smoke and rosemary. Somewhere down the hill, a church bell rang.

I thought about the girl in the Home Depot aisle holding two washers trying to fix a leaky faucet she couldn’t afford continue reading …