rewriting life after unimaginable loss
2 minute read
Morning. I am here, sitting outside meditating, eyes closed, feeling the sun on my face, rising. Imagining, for a few minutes, that it’s him shining on me, in me.
It’s your birthday today, sweet son of mine.
Continue reading “Another birthday”
2 minute read
Why is it that I no longer feel flattened by these days?
YESTERDAY, MONDAY, WAS THE DAY of Sam’s death 17 years ago. Today is the date: 4/30. And I don’t really feel any different than usual. Maybe a little heavier, but otherwise normal. Well, normal is as normal does, right? So far, I’ve followed my normal routine. Up early. Got my coffee and sat outside listening to the birds waking up. Had breakfast, threw in some laundry, went for a walk, and now . . . I’m typing this: Why is it that I no longer feel flattened by these days?
Continue reading “Year 17”
5 minute read
For years, I had a purpose: to write (to finish) my story (my book).
Every day, that finish line up ahead is what kept me running; gave me energy enough to keep going, editing, rewriting. There was always something to do in order to finish.
Continue reading “now, in the after”
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