Grief Digest Articles

Nan ZastrowWhether it’s’ your First Noel or the persistent tenth after the death of a significant loved one, it’s likely not going to be a Rockin Around the Christmas Tree kind of the year. There are painful reminders everywhere about what and who is missing that can’t be ignored. Holidays are all about family, friends, and connections. While some bereaved just prefer a Silent Night.It’s not unusual for a griever to choose to have a Blue Christmas and not come Home for the Holidays this ye …

By Janice Gorey Jackson“I can’t believe we’re here. We’ll see this amazing view every single night,” I said in a hushed tone to Chris, my husband of almost five extraordinary years, who sat beside me in the living room of our rented Air BnB apartment in Montmartre.I stared out through the glass doors of our Juliet balcony beyond the familiar Parisian Mansard style rooftops to Sacre Coeur, that iconic white domed church atop the highest point in Paris, lit up brilliantly, a stark contrast …

By Keith BettingerA tree may still grow in Brooklyn, but the Survivor Tree survives at the World Trade Center.On September 11th, 2001 343 New York City firefighters, 70 police officers and countless civilians died in a terrorist attack on the World Trade Center.Also lost were five tremendous buildings, many surrounding businesses and the exquisite gardens that lent to the beauty of what was once the World Trade Center.Amongst the debris, standing battered and bruised within the World Tra …

Tim KoechlinI dreamed that I saw Alex. He was a tiny curious round-headed toddler with jam on his face who loved me totally and asked if he could sit with me. I said "Yes... but let's wipe your face."I dreamed that I saw Alex. He was a tiny round-headed toddler with a furrowed brow, about to have a tantrum.I dreamed that I saw Alex. He was 7 or 10 or 12 or 24 or 32. He wondered if I wanted to have a catch.I dreamed that I saw Alex. He was walking down Caroline Street, from the bus stop to …

I am on that long walk home. You ran ahead of me and your footsteps now echo the journey I must follow... Terri DreismeierSecluded This First YearI am bitterly cold; the brutality of the winds was relentless. The stone black walls that surrounded me began to crumble. The black clock of death has visited. I am petrified. I am paralyzed. I am an âme damnée. “Save my son,” I pleaded. Tears streaming down my cheeks, my cold hands covered my fatigued and swollen eyes. I collapsed to my kn …