By Lori Gottlieb — 2020
In the months before my father died, I asked him a version of that question: How will I live without you?
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CLEAR ALL
I catch some things here and there: a scurrying chipmunk crosses the path, a patch of sunlight glimmers ahead of me. But mostly, I’m in my head and in my feet as I cross a metaphorical finish line, completing my mileage for the day.