Living With Grief
Many people feel alone in their grief, not realizing that others have similar thoughts and experiences. These articles are based on personal experience and intended to provide a sense community for those experiencing grief.
The Caterpillar
It was a morning just like any other. My daughter and I were getting ready for daycare and work. We were doing the regular things we did to get out the door and into the car. As we would leave our shoes outside in the atrium of our house, I opened the door and...
Learning How to Smile Again
When my daughter died, the pain was so overwhelming, the thought that I could ever feel any ounce of happiness again seemed ridiculous. In those early days of grief, the mere idea of being happy didn’t just feel impossible, it felt wrong.
The Hallmark Card
My husband Joe and I shared so many things, with an absurd sense of humor being a major cornerstone in the foundation of our relationship. We hadn't been dating long when I received word that a very close friend's 10 year old daughter had been killed in an automobile...
Dragonflies, Ladybugs, and Signs From My Daughter
Many people see “signs” after the death of a loved one. Could they really be a message from beyond? Yes. Could they just be pure coincidence? Yes. No matter the answer, signs are special to those who see them.
The Princess
On the surface, our daughter, Margareta, appeared to be a tom-boy. With three older brothers to keep up with, she was as rough and tumble as they come, and never afraid of getting down and dirty. Her legs and knees would rarely - if ever - be free of scrapes and...
An Old Soul
The Urban Dictionary definition of “Old Soul” is:
“A spiritual person whom is wise beyond their years; people of strong emotional stability. Basically, someone whom has more understanding of the world around them.”
There was one moment my daughter displayed the wisdom of of an old soul that will forever stay with me. She was three years old. I was home by myself with her and her three older brothers on a summer day. Boys being boys, they have a tendency of driving me nuts after being cooped up too long. Long story short, after an extended period of them not listening and causing havoc, I lost my patience. I got angry, yelled, and sent them to their rooms. It left me in an exasperated mood.
A Thanksgiving Memory
Thanksgiving can be a difficult holiday for those who have lost someone close to them…especially a child. Since our daughter died in late September 2009, that first Thanksgiving was almost impossible. I was horrified at the idea that there was ANYTHING I could have possibly been thankful for? In the three years since, with the pain of losing her having softened a bit, I know that I have A LOT to be thankful for. One of the things I am most thankful for are my wonderful memories of Margareta and the joy she brought to our lives. I’ll share one with you…
One year, we decided to take advantage of the week-long Thanksgiving break from school, and treat the kids to a visit to Disneyland and Southern California…
The Weekend
My niece Margareta came to visit us and stay for the weekend, while her parents were in Tahoe, when she was three and a half years old. It was the first time we had her for the weekend. When she was younger, we’d love to play, so I know she liked me, but she would cry whenever I would pick her up! Oh well. So one day Uncle Butch was at work, and Margareta and I walked to Ashton park. She was so tired from the walk, that when we got there we both just lay down on the grass and rested. Then she got up and played a little on the swings, and the slide. We started the walk back to the house, and I could tell that she was so sleepy that I carried her most of the way. I told her I was sorry, and we’d be home soon, and we’d have mac and cheese for lunch, and ice cream, and then take a nap. I remember feeling that this was true love, when time stood still, and it felt like the two of you were the only people in the world. I thought, this is a moment and a feeling that has been given to me to always cherish.
The Fashionista
Ever since Margareta could dress herself at the age of two, she had a very distinct style that was all her own. She was very deliberate about what she wore (or didn’t wear!).
One of her first self-styled trends was to rummage her brother Michael’s drawers and decided that his pajama tops, swim trunks, and soccer socks were the look she was going for. Other times, it was just a ultra-cool artistic combination of her own clothes and accessories.
A Letter to My Daughter on Her (Would Have Been) 7th Birthday
Dear Margareta,
Seven years ago today, you came into our lives. Unlike all of your brothers, who arrived in some form of chaos, you made a graceful entrance. Not too long; not too short. Just right. You were the only one who allowed me the comfort of an epidural. You came with a quiet but powerful presence. You were the daughter I had dreamed of since I was a little girl playing with dolls.
While we will always celebrate your life and the joy it brought us, your birthday has become bittersweet. You are not here to celebrate it with us. You are not here to devour a cake covered with chocolate leaves, blow out candles, or tear through presents with glee.
The Cup
One of the traditions we had with our daughter, Margareta, was that she would get a hot chocolate whenever Dad or Mom got coffee at the coffee shop. On occasion, even the “kids” hot chocolate was too hot for her taste. So, one one visit to a local Peet’s Coffee I decided to taste the hot chocolate before giving it to her to make sure it was a cool enough temperature.
Unfortunately, Margareta saw this, and when I handed it to her, she refused, saying she wanted her own. I tried reasoning with her, but apparently a strong-willed three year old is not open to reason and logic.
We All Scream for Ice Cream
Margareta had a huge sweet tooth. Her favorite sweet was chocolate, but any form of sugar would suffice. She inherited the sweet tooth gene from both parents. We don’t keep dessert on hand at home because we don’t have the will power to eat sweets in a controlled, smart-portion size. So, when our family does splurge on dessert or a special treat, it is a big deal.
On a warm summer afternoon, I decided to take the kids to get ice cream at one of our town’s local ice cream parlors. This parlor is the old fashion type: wrought iron chairs around round tables and ice cream served in glass dishes. They also only take cash.