On Grief, Resurrection, & the Power of Planted Dreams
Finding wonder while standing on the threshold of change.
It was a misty, brooding Good Friday in Colorado. The kind of wet, damp cold that soaks through your best layers and lets you know snow is just about to edge out the sleet.
There I was, the two decades younger me, staring at the edge of a medium-sized hole we had just dug in my friend’s backyard.
I didn’t have my own…
