Grief is a River

Grief is a river that now runs through my life.  Sometimes it is slow and steady, passing gently over rocks of remembrance, pooling up in beautiful, idyllic scenes where the late afternoon sun brushes through the trees and paints the waters and the riverbank in bright splashes of quivering light.  The aching beauty of having…

Being There (On the Shores of Life and Loss)

A week ago we cried over the body of my beloved Mother.  She is gone.  This keeps hitting me like ocean waves, one after the other. How it swells.  How it breaks.   It all seems like a dream.  The next day was of course a birthday.  My daughter’s third. The only time to cry was…

Living Conversation

I love words.  They are not perfect, because they aren’t really the things themselves:  the word “chicken” is not a chicken, it is just some scribbled lines on paper.  The word “angry” is not an emotion, it is just a symbol for the feeling.  The word “fragrant” is not the actual smell of gardenias, it…