Grief is a complex mix of emotions. Society’s focus on work and materialism adds to the difficulty of grieving. Grief isn’t limited to death; it can arise from various losses. Others’ discomfort with grief can make the experience lonelier. Unlike other feelings, grief can persist, with the pain often lasting. Seek support in coping with grief.
The only thing we can rely on is that nothing will ever be the same for very long.
This wedding photo has been in my living room for almost 30 years. Do you see the beautiful young bridesmaid on the right, throwing rose petals? Her name is Rose Mary. She […]
Debbie Garcia-Bengochea, the bestselling author of Mini Horses, Mighty Hope and cofounder of Gentle Carousel Miniature Therapy Horses, recently sat down with me for a special episode of the This Animal Life […]
In short, we need to take care of each other . . . . Sometimes it feels as if, when we can’t do the things we normally do for ourselves or others, we shouldn’t do anything at all. But these days, a text or a phone call can go a really long way. So don’t wait.
Ok, so my husband is the person who said–and says–most of these things to me. And no, people aren’t generally quite as specific or direct as this. But perhaps, if you know […]
Dear Sister, A friend is doing a gratitude diary and it’s been helping her a lot, so I thought I’d try as well. I believe in the practice of gratitude, have seen […]
My fiancé arrives home from a twelve hour shift. He left in the pre-dawn darkness, and has arrived after winter’s dusk.
“Who died?” I ask when I greet him at the door, motioning to the black band across his badge. A thin blue line on the band serves as a marker for his profession.
“The deputy in Leon Country,” he says, leaving his boots by the door. “You didn’t hear?”
“No,” I say. “What happened?”
He tells me about the fire and the ambushed deputies, and I’m reminded of the nickname firefighters have given cops–blue canaries.
I heard her crying from the ancient oak, the tree where a hive of bees had set up shop huge as a fruit crate. Eating lunch on the veranda did […]
by Suzannah Gilman My mother’s mother lies on this bed. She sways her head and mumbles, eyes blank as buttons. I hold her hand, recite The Lord’s Prayer, which she taught […]
The Gloria Sirens 