seeking glimmers of joy through the fog
The very next morning, I left for a 3-day grief retreat. For once, I didn’t have to lead anything; I got to just be. I met in a small discussion group with folks whose parents had also recently died after years of dementia. I took a “Comfort through Collage” workshop that integrated the blessing: ““May the one who dwells in every place comfort you and bring you peace among all those who mourn.” I smashed furniture in a “Grief and Anger” workshop, all very cathartic.
How do you measure a life? My mama's legacy of love
I am lucky to have been her daughter. I grew up believing in myself, with a confidence that she cultivated in me every single day. I believed I was worthy of love because she showed me that I am. I didn’t realize what a gift she’d given me; how does one recognize what just…is?
"Table for Two": a visual poem about grief & finding pockets of joy
At no point did my pen stop moving; my raw feelings and impressions covered three pages: my mama's dementia, hospice care, hallucinations, my child's mental illness and recovery, the toll the pandemic has taken on my nuclear family, longing for family dinners but adjusting to meals at our "table for two".
Mothering & the Sandwich Generation
I’ve been grieving the gradual loss of my mother at a time when I’ve needed mothering the most.