It is cold. Colder than it is outside, it’s that awful cold that bites your nose, the air thick with the smell of death and filth. We are stunned; words cannot describe the scene we have walked into.
Good Grief
Clause was a sable black cat with an attitude built on entitlement. He graciously allowed me and my other cat, Jack, to share his home, his food and his sleeping quarters for nearly three and a half years.
The Gate
Author Wanda Lambeth wonders if she helped her father’s death be easier for him and tries to cope with being an adult orphan facing her own fragile mortality.
Flight Attendants
Remliel and Sammael had been doing this job since before they could remember. It always amazed them how differently each client reacts. It was like they were never really sure if they were still asleep and dreaming or just too terrified to ask either Remliel or Sammael what was going on.
The Nature of Life
I wept, grief stricken about them one evening a few weeks ago. I had not cried about my deceased family members for years. My sister, one year older than I; my brother one year younger; my father and his brother and their mother; an older sister that I never knew.
My Sister’s Mother
My sister is dying. Of course we are all dying, but she is withering in the advanced stages of Huntington’s disease. We have not been close, my sister and me; ten and a half years and different mothers separate us. She was beautiful, and ebullient, and loved life; many years ago.
Silent Tears #2
“The Angels are here now …” The clock illuminated 2:30am, “the Angels are here now” he repeated. He was sleeping next to his sister and the angels had come to see them. Was it because for the last two days I could see a sort of sullen return to her eyes again, the kind […]
Father’s Wake
FATHER’S WAKE Yesterday, we buried apa, my father. Today, I sit with people I do not know. Attend a Mother’s Day brunch at the Hungarian Church hall. Courtland township beside Lake Erie. Muddy, unpaved roads: listening to the cimbalom. The zither. Only yesterday we were singing a requiem to him. “Your father bought the tickets,” […]
Silent Tears #1
She sat in the passenger seat next to me, silent tears running down her beautiful cheeks and although I wanted her to tell me everything, I respected her silence. My 9 year old daughter had endured more than any 9 year old should have to endure.
Midday
Amia Moore gives us an honest and compelling view of how her family overcomes grief and finds the peace and strength to move forward in the shadows of a deep loss.