I imagine that, like me, you want an answer: something to eat or do or break or understand that will make the difference, make this bearable.
This is the stage that all of Shari’s thinking blog readers have been dreading for years, when her humor and good sense desert her and she disintegrates into dramatic, navel-gazing grief for weeks on end.
Thank you so much for your advice and wisdom on my last post. I wrote what follows before I read your stories, but I could be quoting you. You also said some things I’d never thought of before. Thanks for being so brave in sharing your words. Here are the suggestions good women gave to […]
Dear Son, It is always easier not to feel. Some days, even weeks, I am entirely numb, knowing I lost you but unable to feel a thing—no love, no loss, no tears. Then comes a day when it all breaks over me. And afterwards I get up and clean my house again and cook supper […]
When I was a child, I had more grandmothers than I could count—grandmothers and step-grandmothers and great-grandmothers, all beloved— but only one Grandpa. Grandpa was from Minnesota—a tough cookie, hardly sick a day in his life. He loved snow and popcorn and apple cider and northern lakes. He could tell stories that left us in […]
Her world is receding, shrinking into a pale aqua cube with bright lights, lots of cords, an IV drip for every need, and a trio of inhabitants: herself, her husband, and her mother. The hospital staff are waiters and butlers, serving IV’s, checking the cords, and bowing themselves out. She is receding too. Like a babe […]