Tag: mourning

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”

Leaking roofs, leaking eyes, and Christmas annoyances

We discovered a minor leak inside the Winnebago the day after Thanksgiving. It’s in the spot where the coach and the cab meet and it’s midway down in a corner area. Since we’ve only owned it for a month, even though it’s 12 years… Continue Reading “Leaking roofs, leaking eyes, and Christmas annoyances”

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”

It’s hard to say goodbye to the High Holy Days

I love the Jewish High Holy Days. While we have a lot of holidays on the calendar, I’ve been practicing Judaism long enough to know that Yom Kippur is my favorite holiday. Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, is joyful and celebratory, and Yom… Continue Reading “It’s hard to say goodbye to the High Holy Days”

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”

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”