What I Still Can’t Do
by Kellyn Shoecraft
Ten months after my sister’s death, I can laugh and smile. I can sometimes care about other people’s problems. I can’t listen to voicemails or write thank you notes or stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.
On the Road
by Elea Acheson
After my 6-year-old son died, I was determined to grieve on my own terms. So I sold all my belongings and set off on my bicycle.
