A Warm Day in Winter
Death is never an ending, death is a change; Death is beautiful, for death is strange; Death is one dream out of another flowing. –Conrad Aiken, House of Dust One month. It was an unusually warm day in winter when you left. We awoke to slate skies that would churn into midday storms, as if…
Something to Say, Something to Find
“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go” –Jamie Anderson It has…
What a strange thing it is to mourn an ending that never once began.
Mourning in the Digital Age (pt. 1/3)
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. CrownedWith lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned. –Edna St. Vincent…