As I step into this new season, I wake up to quiet.

I no longer hear the rhythmic thud of my husband’s quad cane as he struggles to cross the kitchen floor. I no longer hear the ding of a spoon hitting the side of his bowl of grits.

The quiet invites me to release all that I have learned, over decades, of what grief does and allow grief to just be.

I smile as I see the cookie crumbs and cat hair on my couch.  My granddaughter came over last night and somehow nuzzled the cat, eaten her cookie and completed her homework all in the same space.

I’m glad that I don’t need for me or my furniture to be free of cookie crumbs and cat hair. I want both my couch and my heart to be places where children and kittens can be free to play.

May this new season be one where the child in me can take up more space.

Maybe I will add to the cookie crumbs and cat hair today.