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Love Through Loss
No one knows what to say. We don’t know what to say. No one can imagine. We can’t imagine either. New to death? So are we. While nothing can take away the pain or fill the void of a loss, so many thoughtful words, acts and gestures have helped us carry on to the next day – even with joy.…
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Grounded & Free
“The wilderness had a clarity that included me. That included all of us.” – Cheryl Strayed There is a call within my grief to go into the wild. A deep desire to feel connected to the Creator; grounded in His expansive, oxygen rich masterpieces. In a past life, I would uproot and run to it. Right now, I’m patiently listening…
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Dear Dadio
Dear Dadio, It’s been three months now since you’ve gone home. It feels like longer and it feels like yesterday. I try so desperately to cling onto specific words from past conversations, but everything feels hazy right now. Saying I miss you doesn’t do it justice. I wonder what word would be better. I fucking miss you? I don’t think…
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The Most Time of the Year
What makes the holiday season so great is all of the love, magic and memories. Years of traditions, never breaking from our favorite ways: Christmas eve mass, a special visit from Santa at my Aunt’s house, and then a very precise Christmas morning formula: first stockings, then breakfast with cinnamon rolls and then opening presents. The same things that make…
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Me & Death: It’s Complicated
Some of my best memories with my dad were spent in his white New Balance sneakers and light-wash, loose-fit Levi’s jeans; hiking, walking, doing chores, working on school projects, soccer games or hanging Christmas lights. He was casual and simple, with an extraordinary capacity for unconditional love and random acts of goodness. My dad consistently met chaos with peace and…
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32: Into the Wild
I turned 32 last week. How does it feel? As my dad used to say, “It feels just like 31!” Many things are the same. Instead of perfume, I still rub “chill pill” essential oil balm onto my wrists and neck. The first time I look at my hair in the morning is typically in the rear view mirror of…
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What If It’s Great?
I couldn’t walk after my dad died. My anxiety was crippling. I thought I was also going to die. The grief had manifested so physically that I could barely get up. Every type of food made me nauseous like I was back in my first trimester of pregnancy. I had to stop breastfeeding my 4-month-old daughter because I had nothing…
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A First Laugh
I laughed really hard for the first time since my dad died. I was sitting in the kitchen doing some writing while Maisley was pretending to nap. Our part-time nanny and friend, Jordan, peered around the corner and whispered, “Oh you gotta see this.” I got up to find Maisley standing in the hallway, butt naked, proud and smirking, anxiously…
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Crickets
This electric nervous energy has me levitating lately. Everything around me is just out of reach. Gravity is nowhere to be found and I’m trying to grasp and hang on to anything I can. Sitting in a state of grief has opened me up to smaller nuances and things that I might not have noticed before my dad died. I…
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Altered Latitude 