Janice and I both came from families with “ups and downs.” She died when she was still a teenager and I mourned the loss of her from another country.

It has been 40 years since she died, and I still miss her.

She gave me the gift of prayer in the dark. For me, insomnia or no, I thank God for her prayers for me, which have become a light I hold in my hands clasped to my chest as the world gets darker

And the wise ones tend their oil.