I learned young how quickly a life can disappear. One day there was a mother, a home, animals I loved, a room that knew my name, books and toys, friends and familiar hallways.

And then there wasn’t.

No goodbye to the life before. No place to put the memories. No permission to speak of what had been mine.

I learned to carry it quietly.

Perhaps that is why silence still finds the tender places in me. Why an unanswered call can become more than an unanswered call.

Why someone’s absence can awaken an old question:

Did I matter?

I have spent years trying not to ask too much of people.

I listen to their stories ~
their work, their families, […]