Griefis a river you wade in until you get to the other side. But I am here, stuck in the middle, water parting around my ankles, moving downstreamover the flat rocks. I'm not able to lift a foot, move on. Instead, I'm going to stay here in the shallows with my sorrow, nurture it like a cranky baby, rock it in my arms. I don't want to grow up, go to school, get married. It's mine. Yes, the October sunlight wraps me in its yellow shawl, and the air is sweetas a golden Tokay. On the other side,there are apples, grapes, walnuts, and the rocks are warm from the sun. But I'm going to stand here, growing colder, until every inch of my skin is numb. I can't cross over. Then you really will be gone. - Barbara CrookerReprinted with permission from the author, and lovingly called to my attention by my sister in law, Emily Luterman Koester.