The First Laugh That Felt Like Betrayal
A friend made a joke at lunch and I laughed before I remembered I am supposed to be broken. Then I felt sick. Then I felt angry at myself for feeling sick. H...
beverly
Beverly
I Threw Away His Toothbrush Three Years Later
I was cleaning the guest bath and found his toothbrush in the cup. Three years since the funeral. I do not know why it was still there. Guilt is not rational...
Grief Group Said to Name One Thing You Kept
We went around the circle naming objects. Her coffee mug. His watch. I said the dog's leash, and the room got quiet because it is still by the door. I know h...
You Have Earned the Pillows
A short, sharp editorial on aging, authority, and the quiet right to stop explaining yourself — told through one exchange with a four-year-old.
The Almost: What No One Tells You About Grief
A personal essay on grief's hardest moment — not the loss, but the half-second before you remember. On widowhood, moving on, and the ambush of the almost.