Anthem
I have not written for awhile. Like all who have lost before me, I know now that surviving my girl gets harder for awhile before it gets easier.…
Learning to Use Eyeliner
A few months after Camila died, after the visitors had thinned out and the text messages and phone calls had let up, on one of those…
Surviving Rogue Waves
I live next to the Pacific Ocean. The shore is rocky, sometimes sandy but sometimes treacherous. At a few beaches, there are caution signs where the…
Holding Onto My Loss
It is common, I expect, this desire to “process correctly.” It is a stubborn ideal borne out of independence, success, and the force of personality. We…
Gestures of Love
They were standing together, a group of female students. It was time for class, time to move inside. Without thinking, I lifted the bottom cluster of curls…
Our Dog, Andy
One recent afternoon, I was softly crying and cuddling Camila’s dog, Andy, for comfort when the desire to talk to Camila swept over me. I couldn’t distract myself from my…
Say Her Name
Just after the holidays, I was briefly hospitalized. It was nothing too serious. I needed IV delivery of drugs to generate a quick cure. The night…
Lighting a Candle
from “Kindness” Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow.…
The Risks of Survival
Those in the circle know we can’t predict when our feelings will be stirred, when a memory – sweet or bleak – will rise to shoot…
Keeping It Private
I began substituting six months after Camila died. My first day, I entered the classroom with her memory bracelet on my wrist, which had become a standard…
A Compassionate Friend 