Grief At a Low Boil

We were standing in church, singing The First Noel, when I instinctively reached up and held the Ethiopian cross necklace resting against my chest. With no warning, my eyes filled with tears and my throat got tight. I was wearing Kalkidan’s cross, the one that we bought for her in Addis, the one she...

“Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman” and Grief

Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman has become part of our slow journey through grief. Evenings are hard. Once dinner is cleaned up and the boys head to bed, the house becomes quiet; it’s unsettling. Kalkidan was a bundle of energy, often talking, singing, and recruiting us to play games right up until bedtime. The strange calm in...