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 ...
“You should really consider coming to Bereavement Yoga,” My grief counselor suggested. She hung on the word 'really' for an uncomfortable amount of time while grinning. I finished explaining to her my mixed emotions about my upcoming move. My husband ...
As a widowed woman who is ten years out and considers herself a 'veteran', I thought I knew all there was to grief. How arrogant of me. I had grieved my husband's death, or so I thought. I was there ...
Since my husband’s death 2 ½ years ago, I feel like I have aged 30 years. I cringe at my own reflection. My eyes peering back at me know too much sorrow. My shoulders carry the weight of the world. ...
Since my husband’s death 2 ½ years ago, I feel like I have aged 30 years. I cringe at my own reflection. My eyes peering back at me know too much sorrow. My shoulders carry the weight of the world. ...