I strive for normalcy. I cook the ground beef. I make soup. My farmer loves soup, and I don't make it enough. The smells permeate the air. The warmth eleveates the chill. Soup will be good today. I walk down cellar to put away some groceries. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his barn coat. I linger there. The familiar companion of grief awakes. I swallow hard.  I reach in the pockets hoping to find something.  Something to connect me to him. So many mornings in that coat. I groan, how can this be? I am so powerless to change it. Everything so final. Never again. Oh how I ... View Post