Grief has a way of pausing life, asking you to sit with what’s been lost and what still lives inside you. In that stillness, I’m learning to listen, to reflect, and to step gently toward a future I’m only beginning to imagine.

Although my childhood didn’t include material wealth or an easy road, I was fortunate in many ways. This first story is about one of those blessings—my Papa. He was an eccentric man, full of love and mischief, and he’ll appear in many of my future posts. But today, I want to share one of my favorite memories of him.