March may be the worst. Historically, the turning pages of the longest month ever continue to bring bad news to my doorstep. Four years ago we lost my dad unexpectedly smack dab in the middle of the month. On that day, a grief gremlin took up permanent residence in my front pocket. She waves her ugly wings and tattered feathers on anniversaries, the start of football season, or when I see a man over 60 in…
