Tulips

Peter Rukavina

When I found myself caught up in the “anger” stage of the stages of grief, I shake my fist at Catherine for not leaving me an operations manual for how to live now. An unreasonable expectation, of course, but grief is seldom reasonable.

And then the yellow tulips bloom in the front garden, and I realize that she did.

Yellow tulips in our front garden.

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Photo of Peter RukavinaI am . I am a writer, letterpress printer, and a curious person.

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