Feb 7
8 min read
Now That I’m a Mom, Even How I Grieve Has Changed
My grandfather died twenty-five years ago this month. I was fourteen.
He’d lived right up the street all my life. His sly grin and strong arms were as much a part of my life as my canvas shoes and skinned knees. But his cancer had come back with a vengeance and spread quickly, ravaging his body from the inside.
