They say death comes in threes and for her it’s true. She sits, paralyzed by another death, another loss, another incomprehensible piece of her story erased before she was ready and before she even had time to comprehend the ones before.  She wonders how to continue stepping foot into each new day with all of the heartache of the grief and all of the fear…

It’s 10am and I hear my husband’s phone ring. Before he picks up, I already know who is on the other end. His father calls often, but today, on this day, he never forgets.  It’s not my husband’s birthday.  It’s not a holiday.  It’s a day that has marked longing and ache for the past 15 years— the day his mother died.  Every year on…

She was a light. Not the kind that lit up a room, as the cliche goes. She was more like a flashlight. The sort of light that leaves its holder in darkness while shining brightly and intentionally for others. That was her.  Fun. Spunky. Beautiful. Outwardly radiating light as reflective as the sun while standing, like a shadow, in the darkness– a darkness only she…

I will not cry. I will not cry. These are the words I repeat to myself as I sit in the corner booth of my favorite coffee shop. This is typically my safe space, the place I retreat to work and write and think. Today, I happened to sit next to a mother-daughter duo engulfed in planning a wedding. It’s beautiful to witness, but also…