Year two, I'm swimming along and then it hit. A tsunami of grief and I began to drown. Fear was hovering around me like a vulture waiting for its prey to die. Thoughts began filtering in and out of ...
They were right. The second year of grief is worse. No longer in shock, no longer drowning in tears. I’m no longer numb to my new reality. The hurt runs deeper, it cuts more. I’ll have flashbacks of the first ...
Baby steps. Open your eyes. That’s one. Get out of bed. That’s two. Breathe. That’s three. This is how it has to be in the beginning. Gentle and unassuming because grief is not. The cycle is exhausting, it tries to ...
“Mommy, there are pilots at the door.” Those seven words, those simple syllables, they changed everything. When I came to, I made the necessary phone calls, at first it came out as a whisper and ...
