**A Promise in Grief**
I’m in my 60s, and my hair flows past my waist. People tell me to cut it, but they don’t understand—I keep it for him. Elias loved my hair, called me his “wildflower.” Before cancer took him, he whispered, “Promise me… don’t change yourself just because I’m gone.” So I didn’t.
Twelve years later, grief still lingers in small things. Then, my neighbor Rowan knocked, asking for help with his granddaughter’s birthday. I hesitated—grief keeps me distant—but his kind smile made me say yes. Maybe it’s time for something different.