That night, I didn’t lock the door.

I invited her back inside. We agreed she could stay until she found her footing again, and together we went through my son’s belongings, sharing tears and soft laughter as his presence filled the room once more. In that moment, I realized how grief can harden the heart, narrowing it with anger and fear. Compassion, though, has a way of opening it again. By honoring the care she gave my son, I found a deeper way to honor him—and learned that sometimes the truest comfort comes from choosing kindness when pain urges us to do the opposite.

For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.