Grief is the teacher you hope you’ll never get. As you trace your finger down the column of names assigned to each class, you hope you won’t find your name on her list. But then you see it – your name typed in crisp letters, and your heart sinks. You get the call. You...
There’s something I’ve been carrying in my heart for a few days and I need to say it now, because tomorrow is the first day of school and I need to greet it with a smile, be excited with my children, make them a special breakfast, and send them out the door with prayers...
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 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...
Yesterday caught me by surprise. One of my younger ones came home from school and quickly spiraled down into a very loud, dysregulated state. I tried everything I knew, gentle words, loving touch, food, rocking, sensory support (deep pressure, tight hugs), giving space, offering a change of environment (sometimes a shower is calming). Nothing....
I considered trying to shorten this story, but truthfully, it will take more time for me to edit and cut things than to just pour it out. I know it is a lot of detail; I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to continue on through the next couple of days, bear with me....
