Posts in Death
Dead for Good

There was once a man I needed to have be dead. I got as far away from him as I could get, and told myself that was far enough. Then time went by, years, and whenever he came into my mind, which was less and less over time, I told myself he was surely dead by now. 

But last night as I was falling asleep, a voice said you don’t know. You don’t know for sure he’s not drinking a beer right now. People can live a surprisingly long time. 

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Proceed Slowly—Grief at Work

My Daddy lived with me before he died. I didn’t write during that time. I wish I had known then about how healing it can be but knowing myself as I do now—somewhat petulant and always right, of course—I probably would’ve flung aside the idea that anything could help. Besides, when would I have had time to write? Puh-leeze! I was teaching full-time, I had a teenage daughter, my marriage was falling apart, my siblings were nowhere to be found, and I was fast approaching menopause.

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