SITTING NEAR A SMOKE BUSH It was feathery and in bloom. Bees were circling. Children were playing. Paper plates were blowing across the lawn. He said his father’s passing was hard and ugly. Sometimes, he wondered if loving others was worth it. It was clear by how his face softened that this was offered by someone who can’t stop loving. We shared some more history. It’s true, I thought, the cost is great, but without loss and joy prying our... Read more