Take your days…

Before Izzy left, I’d heard the phrase, “Throw yourself into your work.” Of course, I had, but it was in books and movies where the mom was a mess and the dad “threw himself into his work.” But I didn’t know that experience of flinging oneself into a project in order to keep your mind…

behind the smiles

Behind the smiles, the emojis the exclamation points on Facebook; behind the ‘normal’ chit-chat and “I’m fines”; behind the texts and business and noise of life, you can hear it. If you sit with me in the quiet, and listen, you will hear it too. A high, keening wail. If you cut me open, you…

tired

I’m so tired of her being dead. I know that’s kind of a stark naked statement but it’s true. I’m exhausted with missing her. Every day, all day, for the rest of my life. Her death a life sentence. I carry her with me. I do. I know she’s not gone, but I’m weary of…

The most important thing

While June 20th became the special day as far as Izzy leaving us, everything that happened on This Day one year ago, (the night we shut off the life support), lurked in my psyche. Or maybe it’s woven in my soul, because it’s there whether I look at it or not. I spent the day…

in all things

If we all come from stardust, then you are galaxies. The light in this sweet face, lit from within, is born of a million suns, and my own body that carried you And carries you still. Your breath is the wind now. Under my hand, you are the tree. And the grass. And the ocean….

How to Survive a Broken Heart

her heart brokeso she left her bodyshe left her body and my heart brokei invite her to live in mineto fill in the cracks,with her loveso that we both find a way to live on

Eight months

It’s been eight months since I’ve heard Isabel speak. Eight months since I’ve touched her hair, or given her a hug and a kiss. Eight months since I messed with her cute little ears in the mirror while she stands at the sink, brushing her teeth. Eight months since I’ve heard her laugh, or cry,…