I’ve had 30 days of grief, and while I know I’m not nearly done with it, there are now fleeting moments of something approaching happy, something I can only call Grace. 

Sometimes it sneaks up on me when I’m watching a TV show and I burst out laughing.

Other times it arrives like an old friend when I cuddle with one of the pups, or my husband reaches out and touches my hand.

Often I don’t realize it until it’s done, like the satisfaction I feel after a weekend of concerts with my bell group.