Grief

I did not hear the sudden massive crack as much as I felt its vibrations through my feet up my spine. The sky had darkened in the steamy afternoon, th...

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Cutting Down the Family Tree

I did not sleep the night after our meeting to finalize the plans for our Camino. Planning for our pilgrimage since 2013, we deemed 2016 the year to g...

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The Camino Not Taken

I don’t sing at church. I have not uttered a note since Justin died. It is not willful refusal, that voice left. I don’t make the response...

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The Divine Photo Shoot

Heat from your headstone soaked into my arms as I hugged it, as I had once held your thin shoulders. The mahogany granite hewn from the mountains of S...

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The Warmth of A Headstone

I wiped rose scented frosting from my fingers and dug in my pocket for my phone. It was after 11 am already, wedding was at 2 pm and I had to rush hom...

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The Last Boutonniere

The last time we had coffee together was November of last year. Six months ago. I haven’t written much since then, I have even thought about shu...

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Way Overdue For Coffee

Dear Justin, Thirty-two years ago your dad and I were in the labor and delivery wing of the hospital. Your due date was March 27th and you were prompt...

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That Flutter Heart Thing