When My Mother-In-Law Locked Me Out Of My Own Home

window and talked to him aloud about the garden, about the marigolds, about how somehow I was still here. I didn’t expect answers, but sometimes the wind shifted just right and I felt less alone.

I also went back to work, not out of desperation, but out of choice. I reopened my interior design business, small at first, one client at a time. A grieving continue reading …