New Start Every Day

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Solstice

When I came home from therapy and picking up Charlotte at the Skytrain station from her own counseling session, Don greeted us at our little

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Be Here Now

As we creep toward Christmas, I have no wish for Michael Buble or anyone’s greatest holiday hits, but I do think that some boys’ choir

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More Pepper, Less Salt

Last week I was video chatting with my bestie, Claire, commiserating and compassionating (new word I’ve just coined). Not surprisingly, we two English teachers, with

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Graces

Because we have bereavement leave on top of holidays and then a bit of extra yet, we have until mid-February to grieve and heal here

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Awaiting the Resurrection

Though she is always whispering through our hearts and minds, some days we say her name often and other days, we do not. I know

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Retail Therapy

The sun is shining for what feels like the first time since we’ve arrived in Vancouver. I’m sitting in the sofa in this old-lady living

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It is What it Is

How it is that grief troops on, in heavy boots through untrodden, mucky paths with no clear endpoint? Ah, the battle metaphor emerges. My brain

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Emilyisawesome

A few years ago, Emily got into the settings on my iPhone and named it Emilyisawesome. Yesterday, Don and I met with a grief counselor and

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Sockless

Credit: Alloi Omella  – Ayutthaya, Thailand: Our family visited this site on a cycling trek with Kal and Ellen, our beloved friends/family   I’m sitting in the

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Lost in the Mail

In Beijing at this hour, it is the morning of Emily’s adoption day. 17 years ago today, we met this little peanut of a girl,

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Laugh it Off

 Laughter and tears are close allies, their arms often intertwined like besties, this I am finding out.  Charlotte has a bag of Dove chocolates sitting

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Driving

  It will be just a memo today because I woke up late after wild dreams of not being able to control my Grade 1

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Slow Starts

My starts are slow and perambulating these days, but they’ve taken on a routine. I turn up the thermostat, shuffle into the back bedroom that

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Grief is a Messed Up Ball of Yarn

  The stages of grief are not linear: they are a snarly ball of yarn that is so tangled you want to hurl it into

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Heart-to-Heart Hugs

  My youngest daughter has been dead for a week and a half now. What new starts can even be had?  I want to unstart,