"[M]y mother died in the fall, on a crisp October New York morning, and now it seems I will never experience the sights, smells and feelings of fall in quite the same way. In the scrapbook of my mind memories of hayrides, Halloween, and apple picking play second string to goodbyes, red eyed family members, graveyards, sadness and longing. For me fall, with its sensory overload and bewitched air quality, is a land mine of grief triggers."
What's your grief?:
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