Does loss and grief sometimes disconnect us from others, from the world? Yes.
But, maybe, the disconnect is when we are most connected to our physical emotions and the invisible world.
Continue reading “disconnect”Author Archives: Deanna
I'm a creative problem solver, a student of life, and a teacher at heart. Over the years, I've come to realize that being a writer is more than what I do. It's who I am. The process of writing (which involves constant rewriting) has taught me to trust in myself, my intuition, and inner wisdom. After my son's death, writing gave me a reason to not give up but to keep going. In sharing my stories, I hope to inspire you, the reader, to find your reason to not give up but to keep going too.
hope
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
BY EMILY DICKINSON
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
the missing letter
I have no more words. Let the soul speak With the silent articulation of a face.
– Rumi
He is the missing letter from every one of my words.
And, he is the lost words I seek.
Though words never can truly describe his essence, the sound of his voice, his wit, his loves, his promise, his unrealized potential…
Continue reading “the missing letter”joy
Months after Sam’s death, and shortly before he was gone too, my father, always trying to cheer me on, reassured me that I’d find joy again. I disagreed. I didn’t want joy—I couldn’t even fathom it. I was consumed with grief, and wanted to be dead too. He worried about this, I’m sure, which added to his grief.
What I’ve learned about joy over the years:
It’s one of the hardest things you have to do—find joy again, after loss.
Continue reading “joy”unfriended
“In prosperity our friends know us; in adversity we know our friends.”
~ John Churton Collins
If you are an underclassman (in your first few years) majoring, involuntarily, in Life after the Death of your Child, you may find yourself bewildered at the flight of your friends, at the loss of your former support system, and at the dead air you’ve heard crackling since the death of your child. The phone has stopped ringing. The emails have ended. The holiday cards are conspicuously absent. The voice messages you left (“Hey, friend’s name here, just checkin in. Hope all’s well. Talk to ya soon. Love ya.”) have yet to be returned. The summer visits are no longer anticipated. The secrets you’ve shared have gone underground. And, at this point you’ve run out of excuses for their absence. You’re angry. Hurt, abandoned—left for dead. And, if it’s even possible, you’re sadness has deepened.
Okay, so this was my experience.
Continue reading “unfriended”what I learned from a soldier
What I learned from a soldier…
About strength
It’s okay to cry…
Reggie, my heart therapy
He sees me
June 27, 2014. He loves a freshly cut lawn. He does a down-dog-stretch before squeezing through the rectangular flap of a door. Outside. Sniffing a path, he finds a patch of sun and flops onto his side. Lying still for a minute, he soaks up the warmth, then rolls onto his stomach. Sphinx-like, his front legs out, chest high, ears alert, nose twitching, reading the air. He starts when a dragonfly skips by him, and I laugh. I’ve been watching him from the patio, learning from him how to be in the moment. He sees me and stands up, tail wagging. Making his way back through his magnetic door, he prances over to me and presents himself for a back rub.
Continue reading “Reggie, my heart therapy”by Issa, Japanese poet and willower
This dewdrop world It is a dewdrop world; and yet, and yet . . .– Issa
Does Issa speak of longing? His tears? Or continuing, despite the tears? I first read these lines a handful of years ago. When I was too attached. Unwilling to go on without—
Continue reading “by Issa, Japanese poet and willower”the “Like” button
Think of the “Like” button as a “Support” button.
Happy stories, sad stories
Happy or funny stories compel people to “Like” and “Share” them. Inspirational, uplifting and amusing stories sometimes go viral. That’s the incredible thing about the internet. It can inform, inspire, entertain, and connect us.
But, it seems counterintuitive to “Like” mournful stories, much less “Share” them. Isolating further the one who is sharing from the most desolate, and loneliest of places.
Continue reading “the “Like” button”“Wanna see a picture of my baby that died?” she said.
Life had different plans
The day before yesterday (Thursday, May 1, 2014), I had plans to hit the month running, or at least walking. Post the first entry in the new series I’ve been working on. And then meditate—for at least ten minutes (a day)—a personal goal I’ve set for this May. Neither happened though. This day, life had different plans in store.
Continue reading ““Wanna see a picture of my baby that died?” she said.”
Willower.org 