Tag Archives: Death
Quilt Therapy
It was my husband’s idea. Make a quilt out of your mom’s shirts. Brilliant. As I was cleaning out her room, I couldn’t bear the idea of just dumping all of her things at the Goodwill. There’s nothing wrong with … Continue reading →
Runner’s Low
Since my mom passed away, running has been harder for me. It’s hard to find the time. It’s hard to get away. She used to watch the kids while my husband and I went to races. Plus it’s near impossible … Continue reading →
The Day After
Sometimes it isn’t until the day after a tragedy that it starts to really sink in. It’s not until after you close your eyes and your body finally succumbs to sleep. You awaken in the morning to the stark reality. … Continue reading →
Good Grief
I remember the first time that I wanted to be a writer. I was in the third grade. The assignment was to write a story about a tin can. I titled it, “The Diary of a Tin Can.” I even … Continue reading →
Waves
It seems that the most common way to describe the feeling of grief is to say that it “comes in waves.” I spent the last week at the beach on vacation with my family. It’s one of the only places … Continue reading →
The Art of the Hug
I have had a lot of hugs lately. Mostly I like hugs. I like short hugs, long hugs, all kinds of hugs. It’s nice. I have had a lot of hugs lately, not because of anything I’ve done, but because … Continue reading →
Death Becomes Her
The first time that I witnessed death was in a surgical suite. I was rotating with a general surgeon that told delightful stories and jokes in a charming Irish brogue. He was charismatic and funny, quick-witted and smart. By the … Continue reading →


