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.
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
thatdaubing 