There are several suggested New Year’s resolutions for the grieving. This one is from Hospice of the Red River Valley: I resolve to not place time limits on my grief; it will take as long as it takes. I resolve to acknowledge my grief as my own—that it is as individual as I am—and will take
When All you Have are Memories by Anne Peterson You sit alone with memories, from when they slipped away. You wake with little energy to make it through each day. Your loss is overwhelming, the pain is so surreal, You never knew it possible, to feel the way you feel. The world keeps spinning all
If Only I thought of you today not fleeting snapshots, but long reflections. Clear pictures in my memory, stored in baggies to keep them safe. Your dwindling voice fades like a sunset, barely there. I thought of you today as I wiped away tears, that come unannounced. The day you disappeared, the day he said
Will I Ever Get Over This Grief? [Editor: The Sugars referred to in the salutation of this letter are the two authors of The Sweet Spot, a weekly column (Thursdays) in The New York Times. I was particularly impressed by their answer to this question. Out of respect for the Times copyright, I am teasing
Dad, The summer after you died, I went through the attic. I was not looking for your things. Honestly, I was looking for vintage clothes from Mom’s old wardrobe. I’m not ashamed of that, because the skeletal mounds of your things around the house were suffocating. Shirts and pants and underwear, and Mom couldn’t get rid of them,