Tags » Grief


Adieu, I hear her whispering

A bitter sigh upon her lips

Her body’s ache is audible

Her pain shimmers before my eyes

Her face is blank with resistance… 104 more words

One Year

One year. That’s how long it’s been since I learned of your death. It’s been one year that I’ve sat here waiting to hear whether you had been found. 522 more words

Giving Thanks

July 23, 2017

Giving thanks always for all things unto God (Ephesians 5:20).

No matter what the source of the evil, if you are in God and surrounded by Him as by an atmosphere, all evil has to pass through Him before it comes to you. 318 more words




Autumn’s golden chords

Cascade. Their radiant echoes swell.

Grief unspoken weeps

In muted tones. Heart’s hurt

Soothed by nature’s gentle touch.




If I leave my bed, I’m responsible for filling my day with responsible things;

Cooking, cleaning, exercise, looking like someone not hurting inside, not wanting to hide in my shell of lost pride, but I have no choice, I can’t decide to just lay here as a husk of myself, pop a pill, the chemicals are on that shelf, fix the ones in your brain, after eons of pain that you haven’t been able to sift through on your own, it’s okay, pop that pill and feel less alone, take the edge off that sleeve where your exposed heart is shown, move your legs, one-by-one, make some coffee and sip it, slowly, so slowly while your mind does convincing that today is the day you won’t hide away, you’ll do normal things, pretend to feel the same, feel a sense of accomplishment that you defeated its waves, until it comes back tomorrow, repeats the cycle again.


My Dad and my ice cream

I was lucky enough to get to go to Florida in October of 2017 with both of my parents (Betty & Denny), my brother (Dale) and my oldest (Luke) son. 246 more words


That B*tch Called Grief

I cradle Dad’s pillow and push it into my right ear as I lay on my side staring at the bedside table that’s now empty.  Gone are the bits of the pot-infused chocolate chip cookies. 1,690 more words