From the Author’s Note
Grief is not a problem to be solved. It is something we carry, and the carrying changes shape over the years. Some days it is heavy in the arms. Some days it rests quietly against the chest, almost like company.
I wrote this book slowly, in the way grief itself moves. Not forward in a straight line, but in circles that return to the same places until they soften. What I found there, again and again, was love. Grief and love turned out to be the same material, worn on different days.
If you are reading this in the early weeks, or in the tenth year, I want you to know one thing before anything else:
You are not weak because you hurt. You are not broken because you remember. You are not alone because you still love someone who is no longer here.
The pages that follow are not instructions. They are company for the walk.
— Donnette