[PHOTO ABOVE: Contact sheet of photos taken by author at Lake Winnepesaukee, New Hampshire, circa 1978] The moment I printed my first photograph, I was
I remember the call from my son’s therapist. Julian had recently turned 19, and had been in residential psychiatric treatment for a month. His therapist
PART I Say you chose another mother, Say the stars did not align, Say the sperm missed that damn egg, And the miracle never happened.
Recently, someone asked me how grieving my son is different now (four and a half years later) than it was during the first year he
Hey Mom, I’m not actually in here. You know that, right? But I get it. I get that the living need reminders and touchstones. I