When You’re Rooted in Grief

  “I don’t know why I’m so exhausted,” I text. “The weather,” she responds. I toss and turn and dream and wake up and doze and wake up. Energy wanes. We’ve eaten out more than in. I wonder–could the root be grief? Is that what’s gripped me in the gray of these cold days? Did it sneak up and grab me me when I wasn’t looking? When I was too busy to pay attention? Last year at this time I was living in the hospice house, and before the month was out, my mother. had. died. And now the family looks ahead to Thanksgiving–a day that will never be the same. A day when we’ll have to find a new way, new traditions. A day when we can look back and give thanks for our roots, for memories deep. But a...