Tending changes things: quietly, steadily, and often before we notice it happening.

Waking up on Christmas morning in silence feels like a thudding tornado echoing through my body. I don’t know how to feel excited or good about Christmas on the days my children aren’t with me.

All I knew was that somewhere inside my marriage—quietly, gradually, and without warning—I began losing the ability to recognize faces. Not strangers. Not distant acquaintances. People I knew.