“Hi Laura—this is Jane Doe calling from the school. We’re excited to have Shea enrolled for this year’s upcoming kindergarten class and calling to confirm……” Gut punch. “Did your number of dependents change in 2024? if so please check the correct box below“ Gut punch. Before I knew grief—really knew it—I thought I understood the…
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In my grief, there was a point where things seemed to be improving day over day—about 90 days after the loss of our son. The terrible sadness no longer occupied every moment. It would come and go. You still miss your person. The pain is still sharp, but it isn’t with you every second. You…
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On Dad Grief. When it comes to grief and loss, there’s an imbalance—a grief support disparity. Mostly by our own doing, or lack of doing. Men, and specifically fathers, are underrepresented. When you lose a child (or anyone, really), women seem to lead the way. Heck, the literal book on the subject was written by…
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Every year, I write an annual review—a look back at the year that was and a plan for the year ahead. Well, except last year. And, apparently, this year. Twenty Twenty-Four. Woof. Sure, I could look back and pick out moments that made me smile, milestones worth celebrating. But let’s be real: 2024 will always…
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I wonder what you want for Christmas. I wonder how we’ll do it without you. I wonder if we would have watched the grinch. I wonder if you would have learned to ski for real this year. I wonder what terrible gift you would have wanted to get your mom. I wonder if your sister…
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Grief — In and Out. There should be another word for grief. There probably is one, but I’m too tired to go thesaurusing. Because, in truth, there are two very distinct versions of it. One is outward. You grieve with others. Sometimes for others. It’s collective, communal. Remembering, talking, sometimes crying. Together. The other is…
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Get off that thing. Don’t eat that. No, you can’t have a mohawk. Put my phone down. Stop wrestling. Slow down on that bike. As parents, we spend so much time trying to keep our kids in line—especially our boys. In the month and some days since my son passed, I’ve realized that some of…
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The stairs to our bedroom on the third floor are quiet. It is the only real spot in our home that has carpet. We live in an old house. 1899 old. Creaky hardwood floors and noises everywhere. So when my father and I remodeled the home, we added carpet to tamp down the noise a…
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I’ve realized over the last few weeks and months that no one teaches us how to grieve. What to do. No one teaches us how to support those who are grieving—what to do, say, or offer. I’ve been on both sides supporting, and being supported, and it is clear we are all mostly awkward AF….
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There are stages of grief. Or that’s what people say. People say a lot of things. I’m at the anger stage. Maybe it’s rage? Where’s the line? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Angry. At myself. For being numbed to the dangers of epilepsy by years of our daughter’s seizures. For the what ifs. The sliding doors….
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