Love, Not War

I am still waiting on joy. There is a type of peace coming intermittently, rolling like waves together with grief. The crests sometimes peak higher than they used to. My tendency toward hope and optimism has survived and proven itself. The sun comes up every day still greeted by me. But I miss Susanna always.Continue reading “Love, Not War”

Holding Space

My son was sitting on the bench with me at the playground, like Susanna used to do. He did not see anyone suitable to play with. Then, the little girl arrived, followed by the rest of her family. Curly dark hair in a ponytail, fluffy tutu with flats, spring in her step, about five orContinue reading “Holding Space”

The Wheat from the Chaff

There is no goodbye. Not in terms of Susanna. Two years ago yesterday was the day my daughter was buried during a day-long driving rain. I was hoping she would like the chapel with stained glass, and the winding pathways in the picturesque historical cemetery. We invited a clergy person who asked my son toContinue reading “The Wheat from the Chaff”