There's a lot of good grief work in my days; talking with folks about the someone they love who died, designing a piece of memorial jewelry that honors that love. Making decisions about woods and coming up with a design that speaks to your heart.

We might talk about the spiritual meanings of different woods, trees from where your beloved felt most at home. How they died. How they saved your life. And how it's hard sometimes to remember the sound of their voice. How you lose them over and over, and where you find them.

It's heart work, this grief work. There's substance and weight to it. There are photographs and ashes.

And it's all that really matters; the love that's left on our fingers like honey, or butter after a cob of corn. It's sweet and sticky and messy.

Remember them. Tell their stories. If no one is listening, talk to the trees. They know how to hold you. Let that honey drip.