Grief is not just an emotion—it’s an unraveling, a space where something once lived but is now gone. It carves through you, leaving a hollow ache where love once resided. In the beginning, it feels unbearable, like a wound that will never close. But over time, the raw edges begin to mend. The pain softens, but the imprint remains—a quiet reminder

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If my mother were alive, we’d talk about my sister Ellen, and we’d walk on the beach. I’d say, ‘I didn’t know you. I must have loved you, or why would I be missing you? I find myself using your Yiddish words in my head and using them more and more out loud. Who’s going to know where they come from? Everyone in the family is dead, and how was I to

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