Reflecting on the things I've learned about my mother in the first year since her death.
Layers of makeup can't hide the pain of loss.
When grief takes on the form of a gnawing ache, rather than a sharp, stabbing pain.
Dear Mom, Yesterday you would be 58 years old. Yesterday I'd have called you first thing in the morning, trying to be one of the first people to sing you, "Happy Birthday". Your granddaughter and son-in-law would have joined us. You'd have laughed and thanked us. Yesterday I'd have taken you out to eat at … Continue reading I Have To Write Something For Her Birthday
Revisiting Joni Mitchell's music and trying to survive the holidays.
I ponder the effect that this year will have on my daughter.
When "being someone" contradicts being a mother.