Grief made me lose my balance. Here's how I learned to walk forward again

The writer in Amalfi, Italy, where her grandfather is from. (Alan Martín Caudillo)

Last March, grief tripped me.

Days before I would leave for the Amalfi Coast, I tumbled down my patio stairs. My partner heard the crash of glass and found me on the ground in the fervid New Mexico sun, my fingers clenching a mug's handle, the only part intact. My right hand bled. My left knee throbbed.