Second Bloom Sundays The Quiet Part The day after we drove our younger daughter five hours away to start art school, I was back in my kitchen making supper like it was any other night. I pulled three plates down from the cabinet and set them on the counter. Opened the silverware drawer. One fork. Two forks. I picked up the third one before my hands caught up with what my mind already knew. We were only two for supper now. I stood there for a second, fork in hand, and felt something I didn't...