Of Grief, Garlic and Gratitude — an excerpt

An excerpt from the prologue:

The last time I saw him? Alive? He was walking away slowly, keeping pace with his Beepa, talking about his day, gesturing broadly, his voice ringing through the fall air, a huge smile on his face.

The last words? “I love you,” said all around.

Those give me some small measure of peace, once in a while.