When Grief Speaks is a selection of writings on grief. You will find selections from my early grief shortly after Josiah was killed as well as other pieces on loss. They speak straight from the heart. I offer them here not only to openly share myself with you, but also to connect with those who may feel as I once did.
As grief unfolds and matures, it changes. We grow grief muscles that we never wanted and over time, we find that we can carry what we once thought would crush us. In that, we find hope.
Old Photos of You
I scroll through the photos on my phone looking for ones I’ve taken long ago. When that part of me I still am today was alive without the weight I now carry. I can’t believe how far I have to go. I scroll and scroll and scroll.To find that time. The pictures flash by like wheels in a slot machine.Signaling where I was and what I was doing then. When they finally released your remains. And then long before that when you…
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What’s Heaven Like, Momma?
It’s your birthday today, the second one since you left. The missing you has become mostly seamless, no more hard rise and fall, just a current that flows beneath me as time carries on. I swore I heard your voice the other night, speaking from somewhere in the back of my head, near the top of the neck you made me. It was just as sweet as I remember it, both in word and tone. I have a picture of you standing in…
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Grief is Love’s Final Goodbye
Originally written May 24th, 2020, two full months into the pandemic. What an interesting and foreign time that was for all of us. I am so glad these pieces were written. They take me back to a place in time and show me how far I’ve come My thoughts to those who suggest I move on: What I have learned about intense grief is that it stays with us until it is resolved. The only way to facilitate its passing, to help…
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The Hermit Thrush’s Same Old Song
Originally written April 24, 2020 The hermit thrushes are back. There is little I enjoy more than these sweet little birds singing their ethereal songs, delivering messages from the heavens above. I imagine Josiah floats on their melodies, through the woods, the trees and their leaves. Perhaps he doesn’t just cling to my heart or to the side of my home in the form of a stellar jay, knocking insistently to come in. Maybe all I have to do to be with him…
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Happy Birthday, Josiah. I love you.
I began writing this post yesterday, but had a hard time sticking with it. I had to make a cake instead. I mean I wanted to make Josiah a cake, but I’d be lying if I told you that there isn’t some part of me that still wants to run for the hills when I try to sit with the feelings. The grief can be crippling. At times, I find myself both unable to move and crawling out of my skin, but…
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Four Corners
I had to be reminded by my therapist yesterday that my son died from a senseless, violent crime. As in, what I was telling her negated that very loud, inarguable fact. I had conveniently slipped into regret and shame — reworking my way through my past, his past, our lives together, my mothering — looking at everything that went wrong, everything that I wished I had done differently, everything that the 47 year old woman I am today would have done that…
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What I Didn’t Write to Close Out the Year
Here we are, just four days into the New Year and I am already looking back on last year, or was it just last week? It was Friday, the 30th, just one day away from the last day of the year, yet another whole year without my son and the last year that my mother would be alive. Both are hard for me. I had an appointment up north that had been a long time coming. Based on conversations I had with…
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Living My Amends
So many intense emotions today. So many that are all over the place… Being human is a difficult thing and being a parent, I believe, even more so. I think it is natural for us to hold ourselves to a high bar. For us to want better for our children. A better childhood, a better life. More abundance and more peace. It is a trap we set ourselves up in. One that breeds fear, feelings of failure and general discontent. I am…
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Back In My Grief, Out of Regret
Originally written April 28, 2020 Another day of heavy grief. I had counseling today. Hard feelings, old memories, trauma and more trauma. Trauma that led to trauma that touched old trauma. Old trauma that laid the groundwork for new trauma. Domestic violence, rape. All of the icky parts of life that many of us experience, but most of us don’t want to talk about. Questioning what all of it means. How it affected me. The choices I’ve made — before, after and…
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In the Middle of Grief Somewhere
Originally written September 14, 2019 There is a little girl inside of me, In the depths of the silence of absence. In the far reaches of my soul. Who screams out between the sobbing and gasps for air, “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!!!!” Only I do. I understand how it feels that no one else understands. And how it feels to be lost off on some distant island praying, hoping that someone will get the gravity of what she feels. And how words like…
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The Tears We Shed Are The Same
Originally written August 30, 2020 Many people have said to me that their pain does not compare to mine. Or that when they feel like they are having a hard time, they think of me and it puts things in perspective. If my suffering and the challenges I face can bring you a glimmer of hope, wonderful, but do not diminish your own pain, your own challenges or your own fears by thinking mine are so much greater. They are not. The…
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Even When We Seem Unacceptable
I wrote this piece eight months after my son’s murder, when his remains were still missing. My life at that time consisted of searching endlessly for him. However, enough time had passed that I was starting to get pressure from some to rejoin the world, to be more positive, to improve my outlook. I felt judged for my grief, for not being more “fun” to be around, for not being more “lighthearted”. Originally written February 9, 2020 Being out in public is…
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Sometimes Silence is Overrated
Originally written November 23, 2021 Early morning pitch black conversation: “I miss him so much.” “I know baby. I can only imagine.” I miss the noise his presence brought to my life. The chaos of his unconventional living. The “Mom’s?” that seemed to crescendo at the end with an inflection that proved he still needed me. The endless searches for shoes that would protect the soles of his extra wide feet. The new cell phones. The parts of our lives that seemed…
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When I Keep My Grieving Small
Originally written February 25, 2020 I seem to do okay when I keep my grieving small. I do not mean minimized or sidelined or not thought about. I mean when I keep my feelings to bite sized chunks with words like, “I miss him.” “I miss his laugh.” “I wish I could see him today.” “I wish I could hug him… hold him… kiss his soft cheeks.” But when my grieving gets BIG, my thoughts too LARGE to swallow with words like,…
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My Heart Hurts Today
Originally written July 30, 2019 My heart hurts today. More than yesterday or the day before. I seem to slip in and out of the depths of my grief. I can only assume that is what the psyche does to preserve itself. To keep our hearts beating and lungs inhaling and exhaling. To keep us from stopping and falling over in despair like Caesar on the steps in Rome. I’ve been saying since the beginning of this, “I want to be present…
Read MoreNo Point to Return to
Originally written July 26, 2020 I’ve really been struggling this past week. At the same time, I could tell you that it has been a good week. One that in many ways feels like the life I used to live. It is summertime and summer is so insanely demanding when I live it right. Working in the garden, watering everything that wants to be wet, harvesting – harvesting – harvesting, tending to the fruit trees, processing fruit either by drying or canning…
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Remember the Birds 