My daughter has moved back home and is now living in what we have always called “Grandma’s Room.” In the room that we knew, when looking at this house, would be perfect for Dave’s mother who stayed with us here in Atlanta during the winter months.



I hadn’t spent much time in that room since Marrion passed away, nearly a year ago. When I walk into the room now to see my daughter I feel an overwhelming sense of astonishment because her absence is still so incomprehensible. It hits me… Continue