Four years. It’s been four years since I’ve seen my mother’s face. Four years since the hugs, the calls, the moments and the memory making. Four years since the last laugh and the final conversation. It’s been four years since she left this world.  Four years of being an entirely different person with empty spaces and silent longing. Four years since the moment that her…

Sometimes grief is this: standing in the kitchen eating ice cream straight from the container. Overwhelmed by the ache and an intensity that I thought would fade in time, except it hasn’t. It’s shifted and changed and become easier to carry on some days, but not today.  Today, grief is ice cream straight from the quart. Sometimes it’s bathroom floor crying, long drive sobbing, grocery…

As you prepare for the end you sit and watch every breath. Those that once watched us as we took our first breaths are now laying still taking theirs. It’s ironic that life comes completely full circle. You sit, silent, praying and hoping and wishing. You boldly demand peace and an exit free of pain and anxiety. You want a miracle but it’s too late…

To the fathers buried beneath the earth and risen above the clouds. To the fathers reduced to dust and ashes. The ones that left too soon.  To the fathers loved fiercely and missed with a magnitude greater than the sun and the moon and the stars.  For the great ones, the funny ones, the strong ones, and the brave ones. The ones remembered always, with…