
My mother died in April 2009. To some extent, a part of me will always grieve the loss of her. Our culture looks at grief and associates it with “being weak”. If you are still grieving someone, you are looked at as frail for not moving on already.
My mother died in April 2009. To some extent, a part of me will always grieve the loss of her. Our culture looks at grief and associates it with “being weak”. If you are still grieving someone, you are looked at as frail for not moving on already.
There was a time, not that long ago, when grieving was something public. People wore black arm- bands—or dressed entirely in black—to signify that they had lost someone close to them. Those around them knew, and understood. No words were needed.
After the loss of my dad, I remember thinking to myself how I might start to lose his memory; how one day I might no longer be able to remember his voice, or what he smelled like.
Light and dark, impossible to have joy without sorrow, rich without poor, beauty without ugliness….this is a Balinese saying.
When I was younger, I used to always think that time moved so slowly. I remember feeling like Christmas would NEVER come around, or that one whole year of school seemed like a lifetime.
When my parents passed away, people were so quick to say “I am sorry for your loss.” Even though this phrase is a wonderful gesture, it starts to feel like empty words after hearing it so many times.
There is a common misconception about grief…it’s that it eventually ends. My husband passed away at on January 19, 2018 unexpectedly of a sudden heart attack at the age of 51.
Losing someone can be one of the hardest things you will go through in your lifetime. For me, I have always been extremely independent, and have never wanted to take help from others.
When Tim Hickie’s son, Dustin, was battling cancer, he asked his parents about getting a tattoo. Dustin was only 15 when he was diagnosed with Desmoplastic Small Round Cell Tumor (DSRCT).
Judy Dunn knew of her son Andrew’s battle with depression from the time he was 15 years old. Unfortunately, knowing about it and doing all she could to help him wasn’t enough to prevent him from taking his own life at age 23.
In the past, a quilting bee was a way for members of a community to come together to finish in hours what would otherwise take weeks. It was also a social occasion, a chance to catch up with one another and share stories as they stitched.
Lisa Maslyk says one of the things that she wishes she would have been able to talk to her mom, Dora, about was how she really felt knowing she had cancer.“I look back on all the time and think, ‘We never really talked about it.’ It was her way to brush it under the rug. She […]