In my darkest moments, this is important to remember on today, Bereaved Mother's Day. Mothers, parents, grandparents, and siblings who have suffered through the unimaginable pain and loss will experience different stepping stones in their grief journey.
Tag: children
I Remember What It is to Love a Daughter
Did you know I loved my daughter so much that I did everything I could to find her the blue Sleeping Beauty dress for her Halloween costume when she was three? I will speak of the quality of the life she lived because I know what it is to love, adore, and even defend my daughter.
In the Middle of Some Road
Mask 1 hides the bereaved mother screaming inside. She asks, “Why am I still alive?” but I tuck her down deep, even put her to sleep, so she will not speak all that is one her mind. "Shhh … little momma, don’t you cry" although your daughter is not alive.
A Message of Thanks from Corrie’s Family
When I consider the message of Thanksgiving, a lot of words fill my mind and heart for what I wish others to know and feel.
My Daughter’s Hands
One isn't weak because they break from the storm set to take the love you won’t forsake. Harsh words reflect shadows we cannot shake.
Growing in Grief Through Gardens
Growing up, I laughed at the thought of working in any garden. I believed that I possessed a brown thumb. Evening in Corrie's Butterfly Garden, also known as the Main Garden. Yet, the earliest lesson I remember from my teacher happened in second grade. Ironically, that was year I was officially diagnosed with attention deficit… Continue reading Growing in Grief Through Gardens
a referendum: why we can’t lose superman
Please read why now is not the time to lose Superman.
In Every Gold, Bright Orange, and Russet Leaf: a Reflection of Autumn in Corrie’s Poems
I felt Corrie in every gold, bright orange, and russet leaf. Six minus one is five, and at sixteen, we seldom realize destinies are nothing more than beautiful orange and yellow leaves cleaving to branches in late October before they fall in a river bank. Sweet sixteen, like fairy tales with happy endings, are inventions of commercials and ads to buy disco balls and dresses.
A Reflection of my Life as a Writer, Author, and Poet, Part I
Just because I was identified as a child with learning disabilities and possibly autistic rather than academically gifted, it failed to mean that my intelligence and gifts would never show.
I Wanted: A Poem for my Son
There are man things I wanted, but the storms came to pass.
Corrie's Season 