Not a poem, really. More like a stream of consciousness… He was alive on Mother’s Day. Did he already know? Was a plan in motion?
I WORRIED I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers flow in the right direction, will the earth turn as it was
Today marks the 8-year anniversary of my son’s suicide. Julian was 20 years young when he died. This story is dedicated to him, and everyone
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
“Do you have children?” It’s kind of personal, even intimate, isn’t it? These days there are so many who choose to not have children at all, or people who struggle to have children, or people who have suffered the loss of a child. Can’t we lean into conversation with a new acquaintance with a little more imagination and elegance?
[Author’s Note: When a loved one dies by suicide – in my case, my only child – there really isn’t a word that touches the
[Author’s Note: I experienced horrible postpartum depression during Julian’s first months of life and my first months as a mother. No one can say for
Friday, January 19, 1990 around 5:00 p.m. My waters broke and the countdown to baby began. It had been a fairly uneventful pregnancy. There had