grief Archives | Page 5 of 11

What Grief Can Do to the Heart: Reflections on My Dad and the Power of Now.

I found the outside and its waiting room scary, and I liked the comfort being next to Dad gave me. His breathing, the beep of the machines, the classical music I played.

wisdom

Unraveling Our Entanglement.

May we unravel ourselves Threadbare... stripped to the very core of our existence. May we learn ourselves here, in this blank landscape.

poetry

When You Are Friends with Grief. {poetry}

You sit down with grief You explain you need to understand You want to be friends Grief accepts It explains, You never will be the same

wellness

Grieving Under an Invisibility Cloak.

It seems to me that the cloak of invisibility worn by those invisibly grieving is no less than a superhero’s cape. While tossing and turning on mourning’s high seas, it can take Herculean strength to simply get out of bed some days. It can take immense strength to acknowledge that one must amp ...

you & me

Between the Layers: Can Tenderness Exist Inside Violence?

Memories, once snarled, now lay sorted and stacked, their sharp edges softened and beginning to decay. Within these layers, resolutions have emerged.

wisdom

Climbing Through the Crayon Box, Searching for Saudade.

But she is never coming back, and I fear that if I look in too deep, I will find that only emptiness is left. What crayon is going to color that?

you & me

Your Signature Reads like Heartache, but It’s Powerful.

What I want to say is too much, too raw. The thing is, beautiful one, that your signature is one of the more stunning and real and powerful I’ve seen.

wisdom

Reach Through: On Grief, Love, Loss and Letting Go.

I think often how Life got the seasons all wrong. Brent and I were supposed to bury Mom and Dad. Not the other way around.

poetry

Rise up and Know. {poetry}

Marching together, we validated the deeper knowing we’ve all been feeling. Marching together, we collectively agreed, “No, this is not normal.”

feminism

Dear Coyote: a Love Letter to All the Wild-Haired Wanderers.

My father was amazing. Sometimes, he took up all of the space in the room with his laughter, his fiery soul, his protection and honor of women. So, when you are lucky enough to have experienced that, it is difficult not to feel anger at the general lapse of chivalry in society.

grief

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