She wouldn’t see my positive pregnancy test or the way my heart exuded through the smile on my face. She wouldn’t be at the other end of the phone call where I’d shout “I’m pregnant! You’re going to be a grandmother.” She wouldn’t be there to watch my belly grow and my heart expand.  She’d never know this version of her daughter, the one where…

She looks at me and says, “It looks like you’ve bounced back. You look great.” Instinct nearly has me rolling my eyes, but both my heart and mind know she means well. Instead I smile and say, “I’m bouncing but I’m not sure I’m bouncing back. I’m constantly bouncing between hurting and healing, and grief and gratitude. It’s not a one-way bounce. It’s a constant…

I flip the calendar from September to October, another month that has swiftly come and gone. As I use a paperclip to push back all of the previous pages and months before, I begin to cry. For the past five years this month brings tears and sorrow, where before it held joyful celebration of the birth of my mother, a day to celebrate her greatness.…

The text came through and the first sentence read “Grief is fickle.” My attention was immediately captivated by the unique message and the emotional outpouring that followed. As I continued reading through tears, my mind kept silently repeating, “Grief is fickle.”  I’ve written about grief for years but I have never used, nor thought of using that word. Fickle, it’s the kind of word that…

It takes time to see beyond those last breaths and final heartbeats. It takes time to see beyond the destruction and forever absence you’ve been left with.  Grief takes time. It takes time to see them beyond the sickness and the disease. It takes time to remember them before they became frail and actively dying. Grief takes time.  It takes time to step back into…