The last time I saw my brother alive was 18 years ago this week.
The refining fire of August
grief
Washed in the weight of grief
Platitudes are crushed by desperation. Fundraisers and emergency supplies are not enough when she cannot be found and even when she is.
Fresh cut
Three days before my father-in-law died, I visited a local florist seeking some cheer, for me, for all of us. Stepping through oddly placed, automatic, glass sliding doors that had been an afterthought on an old house felt like stepping into open jaws ready to consume. Willing to be eaten, I entered to find promises … Continue reading Fresh cut
Grief and glimpses of glory
To be alone with me You went up on a tree ~Sufjan Stevens, To Be Alone With You When my brother died I looked for him everywhere. I knew without a doubt that his faith had become sight and now he’d seen the King. I know where he is. Left here on the faltering gray … Continue reading Grief and glimpses of glory
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