One loss does not prepare you for another. My father passed away last week. He was 77 years old. He had a pacemaker, a bevy of bad...

I live in another woman's house. I drive another woman's car. I wear her clothes and sleep in her bed. Sometimes, I stand in her closet...

I can recall with perfect clarity the exact moment when I first realized I wanted to die. It was four weeks to the day after our daughter...

Every day, I make accommodations for this grief. Every. Single. Day. Without exception. On a "good" day, that might look like excusing...

When you lose someone, everyone begins talking about the stages of grief, ticking them off to you one by one: denial, anger, bargaining,...

A year has passed since we lost Ev. Well, for everyone else anyway. For myself, this has been one, long, agonizing moment. The dictionary...

I wrote this letter to myself, to the me on the precipice of disaster, on the last day, final moments, of what was my life. It is a...

In The Before, we were a happy family of five—myself, my husband, our oldest daughter who had just turned 20, Evelyn who was only weeks...

Trauma has a mouth. Not a quiet, puckered, whispery, thin-lipped mouth with careful, clipped words. Trauma's mouth is more like a...

The following quote was taken from an Instagram post Elizabeth Gilbert, the best-selling author of Eat Pray Love, wrote just last week...

Last week, my daughter and I loaded ourselves into the car and drove the hour and ten minutes to Santa Fe High School. I'm not sure what...

I never much felt like I was made for this world, if I'm being entirely honest. I don't care about the things I'm supposed to care about....

Maybe it's presumptuous of me to write this post. After all, I am only one broken-hearted mother. Who am I to speak for the parents of...

Happiness is a myth. I should know. I have paid the ultimate price for my liberation from it. It is a thing of bedtime stories, the...

I have spent the last two days trying not to die. That's not exaggerating or overstating it. I am not being melodramatic. It's not a...

Evelyn, My beloved girl, today you would be 19. A year ago, I never dreamed that this is how I would be celebrating your 19th birthday. A...

Death comes at a steep price. This grief has cost me much. My heart. My soul. Or at least a large chunk of each. My family as they were,...

The grieving mind is a swirling, bitter soup of unanswerable questions, a miserable cocktail of what ifs and if onlys. My mind is steeped...

When did we decide that being honest about our feelings was unforgivable? With ourselves, with others ... why are we so threatened when...

Last night, I dreamt of Evelyn. I have these dreams a lot. They are not the PTSD nightmares of the early weeks—those come far less...