By Kate C. They don’t want to remind me of her. Don’t want to say her name. Don’t want to bring it up. But it is up. It is up in the morning. It is up in the afternoon. It is up in the evening. When I’m laughing, When I’m running, When I’m resting, On her birthday, On Christmas, Every day, It is up. To remind me of my daughter, To surprise me with my grief, To bring up my dead baby girl, Implies that I ever could forget. It is always, always up. Image courtesy of Pixabay.
Grace O. Few things irritate me more than people griping about how much they hate Valentine’s Day. “It’s just a Hallmark holiday,” they whine, “Why can’t people say I love you every day instead of waiting for Valentine’s Day? I hate chocolates. I never have a date. Roses are a waste of money. It’s stupid.” These petty complaints crop up every year. And I have to stuff my response, resist the temptation to stun the complainers out of their self-absorbed grousing about how tough it is for them to tolerate another Valentine’s Day. So I let them sulk about romance, or polish their tiresome hipster cred […]
By Molly A. Minnick, ACSW “You just can’t escape the fact that Christmas is about children. It makes it hurt even more that my child is gone.” These words have been echoed many times over the years as almost a universal response to bereaved parents at the holidays. In the religious experience of Christmas, we celebrate a very special birth. There is no escaping this. In the secular world, Santa Claus is everywhere and so are children. To the bereaved parent it can feel like there is no escape at the holidays. “I have to spend the holidays with my extended family where no one […]