Rest in Peace
REST IN PEACE
Recently a family member posted something lovely honoring my brother on Facebook. A friend commented how nice the post was and then added; may he rest in peace.
How to Write A Food Memory
I see a little boy in a white chef's hat at the play stove concocting some imaginary meal for me . . . When I dig out the chef's hat, it's yellowed from age. But the memory---now over seventeen years old---will never yellow, never fade. There are days it is as fresh as today's gardenia blooms.
Moving Forward
I thought I was making progress. I attended my former company picnic for a couple hours. There were hugs. On my way there, I had a panic attack and almost turned my car around to go back home, but then I heard a voice tell me "You can do it." I kept saying it over and over for 10 minutes. Afterwards, I drove straight to Ray's grave and broke down. I need
Love Story
Love Story
got it all wrong.
There’s nothing romantic about cancer
It’s hideous and hateful
ugly and mean.
Not satisfied to consume only its’ victims
it devours the hearts and souls
of everyone who loves them.
There is nothing romantic
about kissing your partner goodnight
before walking across a hospital parking lot
Paper Cuts
I’m dying a death
by paper cuts
None are fatal yet
I’m bleeding
all over
Your jacket hanging on the door
waiting for you to go to work
A funny thought
crosses my mind
I know you would enjoy.
Reminders that you
were here.
Reminders that you
are gone.
A photo
A memory
fading
My Grief
The cold shock
of winter’s
salty water, splashing
on bare skin.
Thankfully
I go numb.
Tides advance
to bring a new reality
and then recede
taking with them
all my dreams.
Waves form in the distance
rolling in slow motion
toward me.
I watch with fascination
then fear
—- Tom Let Go TV —– Interview with Glen Lord
11 Jun 2013
Glen Lord – The Grief Toolbox
Conversation with Tom
Episode 6
Glen Lord – The Grief Toolbox
Where is My Sign?
Seeing death as the end of life is like seeing the horizon as the end of the ocean. David Searls
What's Your Sign?
Lately, it seems as though every time I turn around I'm bombarded with some reference to signs. Specifically, signs that we believe come from loved ones who have passed.
Please Come to Boston: The Circularity of My Grief Journey
Walkaways....2002
No big differences these days
Just the same old walkaways
And someday
I’m gonna stay
