grief

  • Storytelling, Burdens & Grief

    Storytelling, Burdens & Grief

    So, you may have noticed (or not, it’s ok) that I went out, changed the look of my blog, announced it, and then let it sit. Is anyone really surprised by this? Yeah, me either. It’s kind of on point for my spotty writing over the last eight years. But today I decided to take…

  • Pick Up the Phone

    Thursday night a good friend of mine experienced what I imagine is one of the most profoundly painful and tragic moments in her life. Her 30-year-old son murdered her husband at their home. Their tragedy played across the local news with photos of police officers entering the lobby of their condo, their son pinned to…

  • Never Forgotten

    The calendar, a gift – each page a celebration of intellect and talent – from dream to design. Ideas turned into form. Genius I vaguely grasp. My mind moves to simpler things. Dates I flip through and find everyone acknowledged, birthdays dancing through the pages, but not his. There’s no cause to celebrate. Only memories…

  • A Babbling State of the Beth

    I’m back, at least for a moment or two, and I’m going to write some general randomness, babble a bit, and there will probably be a tiny rant.  Hopefully in there will be a lot of love, because I do have that for a group of people who have been completely amazing. Saturday we had…

  • Give Me These Moments Back

    The day I met her she burst out of a crate, puffed up into a large 1 lb. ball of defiant fur and hissed her displeasure at a very surprised German Shepherd.  Thelma remained curious though a bit taken aback by the sheer hubris of this uppity, fluffy snack.  Her sister, who later became known…

  • My Beautiful Kitten

    “Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.” ― Anatole France I’ve never been good at eulogizing.  The words I write and say fail. How can you possibly sum up a life in a sentence? How can you convey the depth of love you have – the multiple layers of…

  • He Kindly Stopped for Me

    I am descended from a long line of martyrs.  Now, you might be thinking the lion snack, pyre kindle, rock dodger sort, but you’d be mistaken.  See, I’ve long suspected my family actually survived through the centuries by being fabulous finger pointers.  “Oh, you’re looking for a witch?  Have you spoken with Goody Johnson?  No…