I began attending Diane Zinna’s Grief Writing Sundays in the early stages of writing my memoir, An Obesity of Grief, and her portals, as well as the writing shared by others, helped me recognize grief’s impact in other areas of my life beyond my husband’s death. The piece I contributed to Diane’s new book, Letting … Continue reading “Letting Grief Speak” is out in the world!
His presence has been active (felt) this month—March, in which he was born and his daughter was born and he died—more than previous years.
"I am who I am because the person I loved most in one moment in time was alive and then he died."
I woke up this morning with the 1975 Austin Robert’s song “Rocky” playing in my head. It’s been decades since I’ve heard it, but there it was, in my ears, and I remembered every single sad word.
“Grief is a wild child. You’ll never tame it, but it’s ok to let it flow through you. Better through than around. Be good to yourself, and don’t take shortcuts.”
After reading the news, and having a good cry, I thought about how Internet friends can be some of the best friends ever.
Turns out, I’m attached to freedom.
"Do we ever truly let go of the people with whom we’ve been intimate on some level? Doesn’t a part of them live on inside us forever?"
But hospice is its own kind of limbo, isn’t it? It’s crowded with feelings, but offers no crystal ball to tell us how we’ll feel when that life is actually over.
"His death is a part of our story, and like any good story, it never ends."
Lynn Haraldson, Author and Writing Mentor 