I have been sending out Christmas cards since the first year Ger and I were married (so that was 11 Christmases ago…) I have a large, black wire card tree that lovingly holds all of the cards we receive in return. By the end of the season, my tree is full and I feel that my heart is also full to have so many wonderful people in our lives. Continue reading
The last two Thanksgivings, I was such a mess that gave no thought to how I could honor my daughters at our table. Consumed by grief and fear, it was all I could do to make it through a day where gratitude is the overwhelming expectation. Continue reading
The day was gray. Chilly. I was running errands in the afternoon and met with a mass of unexpected holiday shoppers, so it took longer than usual and I was tired. Then I drove by the hospital. A few minutes later, the lyrics “May you have a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift” (Bob Dylan) came floating through the speakers. Between the air, the place, and the music, I began to cry. Continue reading
Our last Fourth of July family croquet tournament was two years ago (a bi-annual event). I was about twelve weeks pregnant with Nelle. She should be a toddler running around this year. Or Iris would be almost a year old. Instead, I attend the event, 33 weeks pregnant with Baby Three. A large gathering from two different sides of the family. Many I only see once every two years, at this event. In the days leading up, I wonder. Will they remember that I was pregnant? Do they know? Will they say something? Continue reading
And if you have a minute why don’t we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don’t we go
Somewhere only we know?
Father’s Day weekend. Mother’s Day was such a mixed assortment of emotions. Happiness, sadness, and recognition of all stages and types of motherhood. Women who had lost a child poured out support for each other that day. Father’s Day is always quieter. Fewer greeting cards and flowers and bustle from the retail industry. Less talking. Far less acknowledgment for that fathers that have lost children, of which there is an equal number.