Bloom.

It is March. We hope that soon...something will bloom. Winter can be long, especially the winter seasons of life. March lies in between the day my dear friend's daughter entered Heaven and the week my stillborn daughter did and (a couple years after) my mother did. New seasons come and go, but we do not forget them, how they bloomed, how we shall see them again. When you do not know what to say to someone who grieves, you do not have to say anything. But if you do, remember your job is not to make sense of loss, but to sprinkle sunshine on the heart that has lost, and yet still grows.

Bloom.