Sometimes I Forget She is Gone
Sometimes I Forget She's Gone |

I had one of those stupid moments last week where I forget my mother is gone. I was running, and I’d run past a woman out for a walk who we used to live down the street from. She’s older now, probably approaching 90, and she wasn’t young back then either. But she’s always walked, […]

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From Shard to Sea: the Evolution of Grief

It’s been a while since I sat down and wrote to you all about my grief. Usually I consider that a victory, a sign that I am healing and moving forward and living a regular-person life, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that too there are times when I worry that I’m […]

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We Have to Dance Even When the World is Shit

Times like this I worry. I worry about you guys and about myself too: the feelers of the world, the people who take this shit news storm (innocent people are dying senselessly, another musician is gone too soon, Trump is still president, men are wearing rompers) and internalize it until out of self-defense and the need […]

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To My Mother, About My Daughter
To My Mother, About My Daughter |

She’s been holding my hand again Mom. Maria has. And not just because I make her, the way I used to stand still in the parking lot and not let her walk until she had safely placed her little hand inside mine. No, this is different, it’s borne of her need and it’s raw and […]

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The Baseball Bat, the Butterfly, and the Box of Teeth

“I just want to hit something!” Gabby hisses at me through the space in her mouth where her first two baby teeth had recently fallen out. She is holding the closest object she could grab–conveniently, her brother’s baseball bat–tightly in her chubby fingers, poised for the strike. Her feet are spread, belly and butt thrust […]

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