In time, his grief had turned to anger and then drifted toward sorrow, and now, finally, it had settled into a lingering sadness that was a part of him, not the whole.

The truth is, I knew loss. I didn't know grief. Now, I do.

When he finally found the words to express himself, his grief had shown itself to be bottomless, terrifying.

Like all motherless girls, Leni would become an emotional explorer, trying to uncover the lost part of her, the mother who carried and nurtured and loved her. Leni would become both mother and child; to her, mama would still grow and age. She would never be gone, not as long as Leni remembered her.

In the sea of grief, there were islands of grace, moments in time when one could remember what was left rather than all that had been lost.