A line from a book I carry with me — words that stopped me mid-page and stayed.
"I miss my dad. I miss him all the time. But it's moments like this, when I'm on the precipice of finally doing work that might just expand my heart, that I wish I could send him a letter."
— Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo
I read this on a Tuesday afternoon and had to put the book down for a while. Not because it was sad — though it was — but because it was so precisely true. Grief doesn't always arrive in the big moments. Sometimes it shows up right when something good is about to happen, and you reach for the person who should be there to hear about it.
That's the kind of line that earns its place in a book. The kind you underline and come back to years later and it still lands the same way.