Grieving, then moving on

At some point toward the end of the day, the numbness eased as a deep, deep heartache set in. Journalism had been a close friend for such a long time. What would I do now that I'd been laid off? And the crew of people I had worked with over the years had been fantastic. This was like losing a family.

And arriving home early that evening faced its own challenges.

Frequently over the past several months, my 7-year-old daughter had asked me why I had to go to work each day. And each time, I explained Daddy worked to make enough money to pay for the house and help provide groceries and pay many of the other costs borne by a husband and wife with five children.

So after the drive home, as I came in the door and went to hang up my coat, both my daughters greeted me with hugs and the question, "Daddy, what are you doing home so early?"