"We all want to have the ability to comfort people, to help people, to support people."
I came to understand that my desire for my body to be something different was a form of grief.
In the face of anyone or anything’s suffering, may I never be someone who says, “It was just a deer.”
Despite what Elton John sings, “sorry” isn’t the hardest word.
The grief we feel when a pet dies can sometimes rival (or surpass) the grief we feel when a person dies. It gets more complicated when we must decide whether it’s time to end their life. It tears us in so many directions—Who are we to play God?—and while we struggle with the decision and … Continue reading Grief Talk Tuesday: Saying Goodbye to Our 4-Legged Friends
How many times in a day, a week, a month do you say to yourself, "I should have/why didn't I..." and proceed to berate yourself for not doing the thing you think you should have done? My answer is: too many. Living with a loss, in all its forms – death, divorce, employment, friendship, money, … Continue reading Grief Talk: Self-Kindness
"I will get up and write this down so I don’t forget this lesson, but I know I will forget. I always do. And some other cricket will come along and piss me off and I'll start the lesson all over again."
Having spent the better part of two years writing a memoir about how I learned (and am still learning) to live with grief, I can say for certain that grief isn’t exclusively linked to death.
In therapy, I was taught that the key to effective communication is through “I” statements. They are meant to relate the speaker’s needs and/or feelings to the listener, as opposed “you” statements, which are usually accusatory, blaming, and contain negative attributions about the listener. Whites/people in positions of power have a long history of using … Continue reading To See, Change, and Unlearn: Confronting My White Privilege
I talked to my milkman Wednesday, and I’m sure we’ll talk again tomorrow. He’s the only person I talk to in real life on a regular basis other than my partner Jim and a guy named Ben from Martin’s who puts groceries in my Jeep every other week. Each week, the milkman, also named Jim, … Continue reading “Normal”