grief | magistramater's Tags

Weblog » Tags » grief (all)

Lighthearted on a Heavy Day

Nellie Harper, March 23, 1920 - May 7, 1968 Emotions are unpredictable, inexplicable, impenetrable, and, ultimately, irrepressible. Life is chockablock with paradox. In the midst of grief, laughter. In the midst …
My Feeling Bout Buryin'

We had a *lively* discussion about burial and cremation in our cross-generational Sunday School class. At one point my husband asked if there were more comments and eight hands went up at the same time. I need time t…
Living in the Shadow of Death

Yesterday, I held my neighbor, shaking and sobbing, two hours after her beloved Tom breathed his last breath. His story is too familiar: cancer, treatment, remission, cancer return, gone. They were p…
A Throat Lumpish Day

Geese on the lawn by the Columbia River Early in the morning, we heard of the death of Tony Snow. We really liked Tony Snow. And he's very, very close to our age. Like us, he had three kids. We will miss you, Tony…
May 7, 1968

...from the archives... The lunch bell rang at 11:30. My fifth-grade teacher dismissed the class. I put my sweater on, picked up my cello and navigated my way through the crowded hallway. As I crossed from the dar…
An Awesome Ancient Hymn

To begin, you will not find the word awesome on any post I've written before this. I only use the word to describe that which inspires awe. The Lord is so kind. The one hymn I've wanted for my funeral since I was 19 …
Notes of Condolences

"What should I say?" Don't we all have a hollow stomach when it comes time to write a note or make a phone call to a friend who has experienced the death of a loved one? It is awkward and difficult and uncomfortable.…
Friends for the Journey

Friends always have a lingering, lasting effect on us. Their kindnesses remain with us long after they have departed. Their example inspires us. Their words continue to impact our thinking. They intrude upon our da…
May 7, 1968

The lunch bell rang at 11:30. My fifth-grade teacher dismissed the class. I put my sweater on, picked up my cello and navigated my way through the crowded hallway. As I crossed from the dark interior to the bright sun…
God Be At Mine End

One of my octogenarian friends, a dear friend's mom, has been sick this week. Yesterday brought news that her body is shutting down and her time left is measured in days and hours. I drove out to see her, to tell her…