I glanced at the book Small Victories by Anne Lamont today and as I was getting ready to place it on a cart to be re-shelved a small voice inside said, ‘read this.’ I’m trying hard to listen to that voice and so I curiously opened it directly to a page where author Anne Lamont is recalling spreading her friend’s ashes.
This caught my attention fast. I still have most of John’s ashes except a few cups I released into Lake Michigan last year. I often think of releasing what is…Continue
There are those memoirs or blogs or random stories of people who will tell you that something beautiful came out the death of their loved one. That they found their true calling or that they became more empathetic and kind, or that suddenly the fragility of life made them looked around and they became a better person in their world because of that death. Shut-up already, I haven't heard one actual person I know say that.
I don’t personally know one single person that has…Continue
This week I attended the funeral of a friend’s mother. Since John died funerals are harder than they used to be. I flash back to few memories I have of the week John died, of his funeral, of his body there but not there. It’s hard to be present for others in their time of need when your mind flashes back to such trauma.…Continue
I’m wondering if anyone else goes through life trying to connect the dots? If anyone else out there looks at the weeks or months leading up to their person’s death and tries to see a pattern or warnings that they might have missed the first time in an attempt to keep it from happening again? Then again-maybe it’s just my special brand of crazy talking here. My deep desire for some sort of logic or understanding or feeble idea of control around the uncontrollable. Either way, this week I…Continue