My dad told me a story the other day of a co-worker whose son had died at age 19. This young man’s dad said that since the death of his son his, “Life used to be in color and now it is forever in black and white.” I appreciated this man’s metaphor of his grief, and I see how it can be true. But for me, it’s as if the dull moments of shades of gray once in a while give light to flashes of vivacious color. Since the stillbirth of my daughter, I actually find life to be more vibrant, to be more…
