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Do They See Me Cry In Heaven?

Do they see me cry from Heaven? Does it make them sad to see me cry? Someone told me that my loved ones in Heaven are held back by my grief, is this true? These are questions that I am often asked by clients and I wanted to take a moment to touch upon this subject for those of you who also have the same questions.

What to Do When Grief Breeds Bitterness

“I don’t say much anymore. I’m too bitter. I’m afraid of what will come out,” Wes said.

What To Do When You Feel Crazy

When Grief Makes Us Feel Crazy

"My emotions are erratic. My mind either churns or completely shuts down. I can't rest. I'm always on the verge of tears," Claudia shared. 

ANGER - When We Feel Like We Might Explode

“I might explode! I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry, not even close!” Mandy said, staring out the window with her hands on her hips.

Smile Because It Happened

Smile Because It Happened

When We Meet Again and Again

When We Meet Again and Again

#2… This is my second article on life, death, grief, and signs in a series whose quantity of writings is not quite clear at the moment.  I use the numbering sequence so I may keep track of the progression on the items I wish to share on these topics.

Return to Cherry Lane

Note:  I wrote the following first entry to The Grief Tool Box over a week ago, before submitting it.  Last night, I found a letter I had written 24 days after the death of our son.  My tone and attitude were quite different than that of the following message.  Back then I hated God… His “Plan” was godless and if it was a reflection of His/Her way of having some form of resp

A New Day

Spring awakens with the dawn of a new day. A new day that I get up and try to feel for my existence. It doesn't come. I'm here but I am not. Twenty eight months. I've come a long way but yet not so far. My needs are small in comparison but simplistically impossible. I want to see your beautiful face. Your twinkling eyes. Your quirky smile.

Muted Kaleidoscope

Muted darkness has given way to lightened shapes of distant colors. Today, I can see through a tunneled kaleidoscope of prismatic, disarranged but softly spoken whispers of change. Today, I stepped beside the hole. The black hole, the one that ingests you till you bleed blackness, the blackness that tears your soul into mortifying shards of glass. Cocooned.

We all grieve differently

I have always wanted to be a mother and encourage our children to be honest, caring, empathetic and great communicators.  All the parenting books never prepared me to help my three children grieve the unexpected loss of their father. His death was a shock- all three children helped thousands of searchers try find our Travis.

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