Grief Digest Articles

As I walked into your bedroom last night I noticed a bright light on the floor I know it was you shining down I laid my hands on the light The light was translucent I could see it shining through my fingers For a moment I felt the warmth Of your body that once rested there I know you were telling me That your spirit is still here Combining your spirit with mine In the only way you can Not wanting to release my touch Pressing harder and longer As if fearful that you won't Vis …

Fall of 1986 was a time that most New Yorkers were filled with pride as the Mets won the world series.For me it was a tumultuous time filled with uncertainty and extreme shock.On September 24th my mom, age 46, died by suicide.I can still recall the details of that day and how my life was forever changed.Equally vivid were the individuals who supported me, embrace me and influenced me to become the woman I am today.As I reflect upon the decades that have passed, I contemplate what I have le …

August 2022(based on Griever voice from the article – A Brief Encounter of the Grief Kind)*Found poem is one where material from existing piece(s) of writing is selectively pulled and then patched, knitted together to compose a new piece. Things…died in me.My heart has stopped.You wouldn’t believe what it’s like on some dayswhen I get home and close the door. I wrestle.Doubts…regrets…restlessness and exhaustion;stillness in the house gets to me. Cold.Nothing feels right. Pacing. Constan …

Just four little words said it all, “she didn’t make it!” “Who didn’t make it?I shouted in horror. The telephone caller stammered, “Kandy has-s just p-p-passed away-y. I am so-o-o- very sorry!” Stunned, I fell back in my chair, covering my mouth to muffle my screams! My officemate began hugging me tightly. An earlier call had informed us that a front loader (construction equipment) had struck my daughter’s little Toyota Corolla. At that point, she had lost a lot of blood and had been rush …

It has been a year since my partner died in that hospital bed at home, surrounded by family and friends, struggling and agitated until peace finally comes. Funny, his name is Peace. All are glad to see the suffering end, but we are just at the start of our own suffering. I take a long time with him during his transition, making sure I am with him on his journey. I touch him, hold him close, then release him to the waiting undertakers. I watch as they gently place him in a bag, carry him on a gur …