When I think of your music, of the music that connects me to you, I think of the word from Old Irish, to keen, to lament loudly over the dead. There is a part of me that’s always keening for you. And that part longs to sing — to sing, as if you were still alive, as if you needed me to sing you to sleep, to sing you awake, to comfort you with my voice.
Read MoreOn one side of my heart, a deep well of love, admiration, awe, and gratitude for every being that gets to exist. How is it that anyone gets to make it out into the world alive? What an absolute miracle each life is. And then there is the other side of my heart - an ever-tunneling density of love packed into a black hole that will never be fully received.
Read MoreShe went in less than fifteen minutes, after we said our good byes. She waited for us. I guess she knew when.
Read MoreBut what if we thought of both responsibility and resilience as collective, rather than individual?
What if we walked away from the individual memoir of the one sad woman, all alone in her shame?
What if we began to walk together, forming a collective chorus, louder and louder until our voices can’t be ignored?
Read MoreI understand why those doctors, sisters, friends, thought I needed therapy. I was filling out those questionnaires at every postpartum appointment.. “How many times in the last two weeks have you felt down, depressed or hopeless…Little interest or pleasure in doing things…” According to these forms, something was wrong with me. It was quantifiably pathological how sad I was, how I sat for days on end crying and staring at the wall.
Read MoreBereaved parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion, and the other side of getting through this mess called grief.
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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.
Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.
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