Category: grief

Six months and still sucking

Everything I’ve read about hitting the six month mark in the grieving process is split into one of two camps: The pain will lessen vs. that is the time it really hits you. Kinda like the weatherman covering all bases by saying there’s a fifty percent chance of rain.

For me it’s an amalgam of the two. I can go almost a week feeling pretty normal and able to cope, but only because I am emotionally numb. Then I’m carried back underwater by a wave so mighty it is hard to break surface and breathe. Continue reading “Six months and still sucking” →

The donut, not the hole

My friend’s Aunt Helen is wise beyond her years. That is no small feat, given she is in her 80’s.

Helen has always been a single lady, full of life, occasionally the devil, and is saddened by time’s cruel trick of shrinking her social circle.  Her best friend passed away recently, leaving a large hole in her life. They were best friends since childhood, and had seen many of their set pass away one by one. Now she has to readjust to a more singular situation, as will we all eventually. Continue reading “The donut, not the hole” →

The queen of the butterflies

Did you know the monarch butterfly is considered the queen of all butterflies? Neither did I. One of nature’s mysteries is their winter migration when they leave the frigid air of  Canada and are beckoned forward to the warm winds of Mexico. During this arduous journey  they may travel a mile high in the sky, hitchhiking on thermal currents to ease their way forward.  They are the only butterfly species to take this 3,000 mile trip every winter, and have even been known to cop a ride on an ocean freighter, patiently waiting for land to show itself on the horizon before beating their beautiful wings to their new home. Continue reading “The queen of the butterflies” →

Grief degrees and Kevin Bacon

I went to a new place to get a pedicure today and ran into Kevin Bacon.  It was not the real live “Footloose” star, but a photo of him and wife Kyra doling out mashed potatoes at a homeless shelter before Thanksgiving in one of those glossy magazines we only read when we are at the salon. Needless to say, the magazines at this location had seen better days, since this one was circa December 2014.

Continue reading “Grief degrees and Kevin Bacon” →