I am grateful for the almost four years that I have posted here, but realize today – one day short of four years since Chris died – that discontent, joy, grief, lonely, alone, want, need, and love have all found their true homes in my soul.Read More but not forgetting
is for your people.
Now when she sees I seek alone
She comes to me, she asks
and focused your view,
pieces of me
were visible in
Firmly clutched yet
to the carrier.
. . . that my body has finally found a voice equal to my mind, and my heart is but their mediator.Read More Things I know . . .
As if picking up grief – in this case – was also picking up the mirror I kept trying to wipe clear, and turning it around . . . Pulling my shoulders back like a mother would tell a child that grew before the other kids, and boldly holding up my mirror like I could Say Anything.Read More Grief Love
are not hidden.
I put my fingers to my solar plexus and am not sure if it’s the flattening of hands I need or a boring inward. Who needs healing today.Read More what happened when I shed the cloak my mother gave me
For all of the little girls sitting in chairs.
Waiting for all of the little girls sitting on stoops.
Death is all around us at the present moment. Covid is taking people we know, or it is feeding fears of our own death. For me, Will is a reminder that death can be a celebration, even when the circumstances argue otherwise.Read More In Celebration of Dying Young