Lynn Haraldson, Author and Writing Mentor

I can't help but think how the ideologies of those "godly" men of yesteryear are the same ideologies as the Christian Nationalists who threaten our country today.

We grievers often have songs that remind us of our person: who they were, what they were like, where we were when we met them, where we were when they died.

I just woke up from a nap.

I began attending Diane Zinna’s Grief Writing Sundays in the early stages of writing my memoir, An Obesity of Grief, and her portals, as well as the writing shared by others, helped me recognize grief’s impact in other areas of my life beyond my husband’s…

I hate mice.

When my first grandchild, Claire, was born, my heart was full of so many strong emotions that it took a few weeks to parse out and understand them all.

His presence has been active (felt) this month—March, in which he was born and his daughter was born and he died—more than previous years.

What’s true is that it’s not possible to hate or disregard someone who doesn’t pray or look like you, or to take advantage of or purposely hurt someone, unless you’re afraid of losing something.

"What does the ache ask from you?

"I am who I am because the person I loved most in one moment in time was alive and then he died."

This is full blown grief, my friends; the inability to comprehend what’s being said and done in the moment.