Some grief stories are easier to hear than others. We readily accept fond memories of those we've lost, but what happens when grief comes wrapped in anger, irritation, and unfinished conversations?
Some grief stories are easier to hear than others. We readily accept fond memories of those we've lost, but what happens when grief comes wrapped in anger, irritation, and unfinished conversations?
Three years after my husband’s suicide, I reflect on grief, unhealthy relationships, self-medication, and the uncomfortable truth that healing is not the same as romanticizing the past. Sometimes survival means accepting that there will never be perfect answers — only the choice to keep moving forward.
A raw letter to my mother three years after her death, reflecting on grief, sobriety, domestic violence, regret, family, military service, faith, and the complicated process of learning to forgive yourself.