I short circuit sometimes – when life gets too stressful – to a memory that repeats in haunting fashion. It is the lips of the doctor mouthing the words, “These things happen.” His lips are chapped and peeling. The corners ...
I still feel married. The dichotomy of this phrase is largely dismissed by widows. Conversely, we pass it around like bread at the dinner table, slathering it with butter and comforting our palates with the way it rolls off our ...
I have believed in God for as long as I can remember. My mother and the church indoctrinated me with visions of the cross, and on Sundays, I trailed behind her with hurried steps while she marched us towards service ...
Allowing myself to be happy, after the death of my husband, always felt a little like betrayal. It felt like I was shouting from the highest peaks that life without him was enjoyable, like I didn’t care that he had ...
My first grief therapy experience was a disaster – a Freudian approach connecting everything back to sex and my parents that left me feeling more broken and bewildered than when I began. The counseling was shoved in my face about ...
I fell asleep praying to God in weeps, begging Him to help me because I had just lost my best friend and lover of 24 years, the father of my children, and 75% of our income. My house was a ...
June, 2024 - 3:46am Why didn’t I say thank you? I roll over and look at my phone. The room is dark and silent, and I’ve got one leg hooked over a pile of clean laundry that’s needed folding for ...