I sit atop my life’s dune field. With each grain as a literal benediction. Blessings as the stars in heaven. Soft illuminance of the moon above casts my silica hill into the brightest pale. …

There is inside me a thorny bundle. Ever shrinking, it’s barbs remain well filed. A shrouded agony that used to consume my consciousness. Days and nights have lifted me high above it’s plain, Until I now see the sky above it. I am more, both before and after, Yet all…

The sentimentality of that children’s book astounded me. You know the one, where a compassionate spider saves the life of a farm pig through the words in her web. I had never harbored the thought that such a gentle allegory could reach so perfectly into the profundity of loss. Nor…

What a breathtaking syllable. Quite literally. As your tongue pushes that burst of lung’s air out from the roof of your mouth, you exhale. It has exited, departed. It is staggering deep inside as well. …

Lately, I have been distinctively contemplative of my grief process. Over the busyness of this summer, complete with an interstate move, a job change, and all that comes with that, I was so preoccupied that my journey seemed to have receded into the background. Loss has defined my days, yes…

In matters of raising children, the experiences of fathers are woefully underrepresented. This is mostly due to the actions of the members of my sex, with too many men hurriedly absonding themselves at the moment that first infant cry is heard, or when that child support support check is due…

Allow me to take you on a tour of sorts of some of my phases of grief. As I begin to exit my first 12 months of loss, I have done some passive “looking back” to see what my wounds looked like at each step of the way. Each of…

This is another essay that I wrote a couple months back and never reached the closure I wanted to push “Publish”. I read it back tonight and was grateful for the evidence it was of true healing. To doubt is human. To wrestle with what we believe is proof of…

But, I feel so alone. How could you feel that way? Somehow, I am in between. Here on limbo’s corner, I jog in place, actively exercising my will to press forward, yet going nowhere. Am I making this up? …