Coping With Grief

So many everyday expressions refer to death in different ways. We insert them into our vocabulary because it is a part of life itself. “My

Unfamiliar desperation Pride and knees hit the floor Declining in preparation Have I any more to give? All of me descends All but my beseeching

I’ve never enjoyed cooking. It has always seemed like a burdensome chore. The preparation, the presentation, the cleanup. It felt tedious and menial. Yet here

In the paroxysms of grief I fall to my knees lean into the couch face buried in a cushion, wailing to a nameless god. The

A few years ago, my mother handed me a set of faded papers browned at the edges and neatly tri-folded to fit in a slim

I remember times when Truth was inscribed in capitals, like the opening lines of an illuminated manuscript its compulsive fantasies emblazoned in the tinted ink

“It’s not okay,” were the first and last words I gave Sierra, a courageous fellow author who asked me to sign her book. She’d read

I’m wearing old shoes and will for a while yet the grief still holding close. Sometimes when the longing for a single living thing overcomes

My son, eight years old and afraid he’ll catch this virus and die, is already mourning. Even if I live to be old, he says,

I’m being cut open on a stage, in front of everyone and no one can help me or knows what to say; I just stand