At 7:00 pm last night, we lit our candles. Well, close to 7:00 anyway. I was ready, but Quentin was still climbing out of the bathtub and shaking himself dry. It made the mood more lighthearted. I asked Ger if he had a song and he immediately said “Candle in the Wind” (1997 version). The lyrics weren’t exactly right for our losses, but seemed somehow fitting anyway. Continue reading
The day did not go as planned, but parents who have experienced loss know all too well that sometimes life does not go as planned. Continue reading
I was taking a bath when I heard the crash from the master bedroom. “Quentin? What happened?” Pause. “Something fell,” was the response. He came in the bathroom with tears in his eyes. “Something fell on my head.” Continue reading
For my friend’s son, Lucas: September 8, 2016 – September 9, 2016.
When we die, our tombstone will have the date of our birth and the date of our death. And in between those two dates is a simple dash. This small punctuation mark represents our entire life.
This week has been a series of reminders. There was the memory of the moment when I was told by the doctor that Nelle was gone. There was the memory of her birth. Today, Autumn turned one month old, a spot of joy. Milestones of both birth and loss. And there was a reminder that people grieve differently. Continue reading
(After losing Iris, I joined an online grief writing course in March of 2016. For 30 days, I received an emailed prompt and could write and share it with other people enrolled in the course. As the 30 days ended, I realized how much I needed the prompts to give me some inspiration and direction, so I set about to create my own from quotes and other sources. I ended up with more than 200 prompts. I wrote here, and privately. Continue reading