BUTTER! My new favorite food. It all started with a recipe for chard. My family reputation was that of an irritatingly healthy eater— olive oil, avocados, walnuts were my oils— until I picked a handful of chard from my garden.
“You’re doing well,” my friends say. My husband has spent the last month in the hospital, and his future is bleak. I’m anything but “well.” My previous passions are now colorless. I haven’t been to art classes. I’m not reading. I have no interest in my veterinarian TV shows. Yet, still, I’m moving forward with life pursuits even though my love of 50 years is not with me.