These days are glorious.  The color, the sun; all magnificent displays of God's handiwork. I still long to feel. . . I try.  I sit on a rock overlooking the meadows. I close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sun.  But my heart still aches and longs for what it can not have. I make cookies for the first time. The memories of Elijah come like a flood. The last day he was here; the day we had no idea would be his last. He had come home all excited from a shooting match. I had made cookies. He stood in the kitchen and ate one after another. . .dipping them ... View Post