The Inscape of Grief
By Allison Backous
Last Wednesday, my grandmother, my father’s mother, died. She had been fighting lung cancer for over a year, and was eighty-three years old. I learned about her death an hour before I had to go teach, and called my father after class. “She had a good long life, Red,” he told me, the typical Backous stoicism flattening his voice. Continue Reading …




