“He loved roses,” the woman said softly, a touch of sadness in her eyes. “We used to tend to them together every morning, sharing our daily lives and dreams. Now, this is how I keep his memory alive.”
Playing guitar alongside my son, our instruments tuned, I feel my calves throbbing with strain. Despite the discomfort, I persist, fixing my gaze on the upcoming boulder, the adjacent tree, the subsequent stride. I reassure myself that the summit is near and that the panorama aw