How Well Do We Love?
Driving home from the hospital, after sharing my dad’s last hours of life, I saw the sun rising over the cow paddocks, where trees stood knee-deep in mist, silhouetted black against the pink and orange sky. And I thought about how there’s immense beauty in the midst of dark grief. How we only grieve because we love. And how deep sorrow means we loved well.
How well do we love?
