I have two really bad months in the year. January marks the anniversary of the decline of my father’s treatment for colon cancer, and his consequent death. There are a couple of days in January when grieving for my father makes it hard to get out of bed, because the sheer memory of grief weighs me down.
There is a heavy debt of guilt whenever I realize that our new life wouldn’t exist had Arron not died. Through the pain of our grief, we discovered strength we didn’t know we possessed, learned to appreciate the gifts of life and have empathy for others who were themselves in pain. We were awakened
Dear Joan Rivers, You were the only one of the countless celebrities that he cared for who reached out to me and my children after my husband Allen Epstein, committed suicide. Your affection for him was clear as his had been for both you and Melissa, but you were determined that day to make sure,
Parting is inevitably painful, even for a short time. It’s like an amputation. I feel a limb is being torn off, without which I shall be unable to function. And yet, once it is done… life rushes back into the void, richer, more vivid and fuller than before. Anne Morrow Lindbergh, American aviator and author