In January, we lost Ryan’s father suddenly. I remember that cold morning—the dreaded 6 am phonecall, and holding my husband as we both cried on our emergency plane flight to Philadelphia. We walked hand in glove-covered hand to his gravesite, and we warmed ourselves under a thick blanket as a flag was draped over his coffin. Ryan and I have grieved his loss in different ways. He was a talented chef, and we hold onto his memory by cooking and enjoying the best food that we can. His death has scarred both of our hearts, yet the tragedy has bound our spirits even closer.
In October, we found my mom’s health restored. After years of pain and illness, my mom was able to walk, to paint, and to smile again. She was no longer confined to rest in her bed all day…she was granted a new lease on life.
Always,
Monet
Anecdotes and Apple Cores