Grief Digest Articles

Mason jars are popular these days and the uses are almost endless. People are using them as flower vases, holders for homemade cookie mixes, and holiday decorations. I use wide-mouth jars to store leftovers and food products, such as rice, small pasta, and crackers. Author Elizabeth Gilbert uses a giant jar to document her happiness.When she felt happy, she jotted a few words on a small piece of paper, dated it, and dropped it in the jar. When the year ended, Gilbert read her notes, put them awa …

As I slowly faded away on the couch with the T.V. blurring to white noise and Aurora’s, our 13-year-old Maltese, furry back arched against my leg, Sue whispered softly into my ear, “Why don’t you go up, babe.” I gradually opened my eyes but in the haze I didn’t see her. For a brief moment I was confused. So I dragged myself up the stairs—Aurora following right behind—and slid into bed. Sue would repeat those words almost every night as she spot-checked me to see if I was still awake. She, on the …

January 22, 2019 marks ten years since my beautiful Jenna died. In many ways it feels like she was just here—I remember her last days with us so clearly—but it also feels like it’s been an eternity since I kissed my little girl goodbye. She was only five years, six months, and twenty days old. As time goes by, I miss her more. I wonder who she would be. This quote by Jodi Gilliland resonates in my heart: “The death of your child is a loss you never get over—it just becomes part of who you are.” …

Walking alongside T through his cancer treatment and finally his death was the most deeply devastating, heart shattering and painful experience of my life and the boys. And, it was the most precious, meaningful, experience as well. Life was simple in the sense that nothing else mattered but time with him. Moments of simply being. Soaking up each touch, breathe and sound with him. Death sat with us each day at our family table. Sitting in the reality of the fine line between life and death. It …

When my daughter was stillborn, friends and family reached out in countless thoughtful ways to show that they cared. They brought meals to fill our bellies, sent cards to offer condolences, and gifted trinkets to help us remember Charlotte. The overwhelming majority of those well-wishers suggested that she would "be in our hearts forever". This metaphor is truly a beautiful one: I will hold my child in my heart by honoring her existence and she will live on as I revisit those few, but meaningful …