“…the death of my mother was the thing that made me believe the most deeply in my safety: nothing bad could happen to me, I thought. The worst thing already had.” 
― Cheryl Strayed, Wild

When I first read Cheryl Strayed’s memoir ten years ago, I thought it was the story of her hiking alone on the Pacific Crest Trail. Recently, I reread it and realized it’s about grieving her mother, who died at the age of forty-two. Of course, it is both.

I notice different things now because, as for Cheryl Strayed...