Grief Digest Articles

She sat across from me, tears quietly streaming down her face. “I need to know,” she said, “is there really a Heaven? I used to believe in one," she continued, “but since my child died, I need to know for sure.” Quietly desperate she repeated, “I need to know for sure.” I hear this question frequently as a grief therapist; this heart-broken plea for reassurance. While it often comes from parents, it is a common question from anyone who has experienced the death of a loved one. The guide for my …

M y name is Mark. I’m a middle-aged, middle-class father who’s been married for twenty-five years. We rescued a dog and a cat from the humane society that now live with us in our Cincinnati suburban home. What I’m trying to say is that I’m just your average guy, a typical sight in average America. Covid hit me like it did everyone else: business changed, pockets tightened, fears grew, habits adjusted, and bankruptcy felt imminent until it didn’t. March, April, and May wer …

Music is the first to come, and the last to go.The rhythm of the heartbeatin the womb;the delight of familiar songsin the nursing home. The disease sneaks upstealthily robbing the most giftedof their talents.Those fingers which flew over the keys,playing Chopin, Bach, Beethoven,popular tunes,now gnarled. I want her carers to knowwho she is, her essence,her history, the richness of her life. Her smile in the morninglike the sunshine itself,long dark hair streaming overher long flowered robe.Her f …

One Thursday in December (2000), Jonah, my then three year old grandson, and I were hanging out in what was then the Thompson Park Mall in Kamloops. We were refugees from the toxic fumes of a bath tub being re coated. What a time of year to do it! It was freezing cold outside and stinky and cold inside due to having windows open etc. Jonah has bad allergies and grandma wasn't doing so well either! So off to the mall we went, pushing Jonah in his stroller, braving the shoppers and crowded aisles …

The little girl curled up in her mother’s arms. Her mother lay weak and frail in a bed of rumpled sheets, blankets and pillows. Her breath was becoming strained and it was growing more and more difficult to speak. Sometimes her thinking betrayed her and her thoughts would drift to a half wake place where she had already gone to heaven. When she was there she saw her own mother and her father and her tired body wasn’t hurting anymore. It was a peaceful place. The idea of dying had become less fri …