It's just short of seven months since the death of Hilary Teachout, my beloved wife. I was close to despair when I returned from her deathbed to my locked-down apartment, and though I thought at one point that I was coming out of it, I was wrong. I missed out on spring this year: not until recently did I feel in my bones that I really was starting to become myself again. Continue reading Farther along at About Last N…
SOURCE: ArtsJournal at 07:02AM on October 26, 2020