leyzays
Illustration: An old recipe box open on a kitchen counter beside a mixing bowl, flour, eggs and a wooden spoon, warm afternoon light, no people.

Grief

The ones we lose stay in the way we love.

When someone we love dies, we worry we'll forget them. Their voice, their laugh, the way they said our name.

But they stay in ways we don't expect. In the recipe we cook exactly like they did. In the phrase that slips out of our mouths. In the patience they taught us, the jokes, the stubbornness, the kindness.

They're in the way we love now.

Cook the recipe. Tell the story. Pass on what they gave you. That's how they stay.