Tag: death

The blessings of community

These past six weeks have been a crash-course in learning about what the word “community” really means.

Utterly broken

Two weeks ago, I put up this post about heading into the High Holidays still mourning the loss of my father, but in a very different place grief-wise than I was a year ago. Two hours after I posted that, I found out that… Continue Reading “Utterly broken”

Waiting

My dad believed in visitors from the afterlife. He was also a man of stories, and one of his frequent stories was a memory from when his younger brother, John, died as a teenager in the early 70s. The story goes like this: John… Continue Reading “Waiting”

Three weeks, one day

Three weeks, one day. These days, I measure the passage of time based on my father’s passing. In these subsequent 22 days since his death, grief has taken its place in my life like a shadow. My only real reprieve is for a few… Continue Reading “Three weeks, one day”

I’ll never feel normal again

My dad died nine days ago after having suffered a massive stroke two days prior. He died in a hospital in southeastern Indiana while my connecting flight was sitting on the tarmac in Salt Lake City, getting ready to take off for Indianapolis. I… Continue Reading “I’ll never feel normal again”

Guys (grandpas) and Dolls

Of all my memories, the one I associate most with my grandfather is a crushed velvet couch piled six across and two high with Cabbage Patch Dolls. Blondes. Brunettes. Redheads. Boys. Girls. There seemed to be one of every kind displayed on that couch… Continue Reading “Guys (grandpas) and Dolls”

1 year

It’s been a year, Kyle, since I kissed you on the head for the last time and watched as you drifted into a peaceful death.  I know that you’re finally free from pain but a year later, I’m definitely not.  Our family isn’t the… Continue Reading “1 year”