My mother didn’t allow us to gather to memorialize my stepfather, but the tree is a memorial I see every day. I still talk with him. I still ask my him questions and then wait–the answer comes, as if we’re still talking, because I believe we are.
My mother didn’t allow us to gather to memorialize my stepfather, but the tree is a memorial I see every day. I still talk with him. I still ask my him questions and then wait–the answer comes, as if we’re still talking, because I believe we are.