Tag Archive: Grief

A Painful Journey Back

The pain of grief is like labor pangs. You remember them, but you don’t FEEL their depth, their intensity, until the next contraction hits. Those precious few minutes between contractions give you time… Continue reading

Sequestered with Teens; Day 13

My feet made me cry. Then Pearl Jam made me cry. I cuddled up on the couch to watch church this morning, and I noticed my feet. I have my dad’s feet. Long… Continue reading

Wrestling with Big Questions

Even though I would love to be granted the wisdom to know why my dad died, I know I won’t be. At least not in this life. But there are other questions I… Continue reading

Effortless

On Christmas night, we went to my 86-year-old grandpa’s house and watched old home videos. When I say old… I mean old. My dad would’ve turned 61 this month and there were shots… Continue reading

What Have I Been Doing?

It’s been just over two months since my dad died. It seems like it’s been longer than that. I recounted three times… August to October… yep, two months. I miss him so much.… Continue reading

Empty Tank

I’m running on empty lately. Grieving the loss of my dad is the most exhausting activity I’ve ever experienced. Then stack on a house renovation. Three teenagers. A marriage. A day job. Trying… Continue reading

Two Steps Forward, Three Steps Back

  I think exhaustion and hunger set the stage. We’d been working on our house renovation all weekend, and by 9:30pm all I’d eaten all day was avocado toast, and granola. Oh… and… Continue reading

Now What?

I walked beside my dad for over two years through his battle against cancer. That’s over. The service was painstakingly planned and was a success. That’s over. Now what? So much of my… Continue reading

Newness

I’ve been doing yoga every morning lately. Partly because I don’t want to end up a hunched-over old lady, and partly because my sadness is heavy in the morning so I NEED a… Continue reading

Confusion of Grief

The air is heavy with summer-rain moisture and the sweet scent of blackberries on the bush too long. The woods smell like the coming moss, and musk cologne, with a hint of rotting… Continue reading