The Quiet Aftershocks of Grief
A few months ago, I was at my brother’s farm for a quick visit. Rudi, my German Shepherd and I, were enjoying the warm, sunny spring day by going for a long walk. I heard it long before I ever saw it. The unmistakable drone of a helicopter pierced through our quiet solitude. Though I couldn’t be sure of its mission, I assumed it was medical helicopter transporting a patient to a Great Falls hospital. Its sound and visual presence consumed everything else, as if it demanded attention and took precedence over any other object or being. When I hear a helicopter, I i...