Let's face it: life for average people isn't getting easier. As a matter of fact, it's enormously complicated. Aging itself requires far more skill than it did. It's not an easy process at all.
When faced with the loss of one so precious and so dear, as in the loss of a child, the challenge is to find the beauty in the sorrow. It is there to be certain, but one must empower one's eyes, heart, mind and soul to see it.
Some years ago, during a visit to Jerusalem, I went to visit the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, reputed to be on the place of Jesus' tomb. I was rather underwhelmed, and wondered where Jesus really was amid all of the tourists and souvenirs.
A child you know is grieving. It breaks your heart. You wonder what you can do to support them. Here are some guidelines.
There's nothing and no one to fear. Light prevails, not darkness. Death's relentless furrowing will subside, it will not always overwhelm. We will catch our breath again, one day.
Sometimes it just makes it easier on you, easier on your heart and mind, if you simply stop trying to explain. Refusing to explain or defend your grief doesn't mean you let other people go on and on about it, continually telling you how you should live.
I have long had issues with death. I don't know what it is about death that disturbs me so, but it's something I have never come to terms with. And I wondered what kind of person would make art out of the ashes of dead people? Isn't that sacrilegious? Or at least in bad taste?
While I really wish that my ring had never fallen down the toilet to be lost in sewage-y oblivion, I'm grateful that I'll finally, once and for all, be able to properly say goodbye to my beloved Nonna.
This is the key to understanding the meaning of both life and death: that we are here precisely to find love in all the hopeless places. And the secret is that the love is already here and everywhere -- we only need to see it.
Though Mom will never again be with me physically and I will never again open a present from her on a special holiday, I have received the most important gift she could ever give me: the ability to cherish what really matters in life, to find the hidden beauty in everything, to make something from nothing.
Be it biblical or folk; fictional or popular, history in all of its forms has certainly had its share of classic struggles and conflicts: David vs. Goliath; the Hatfields vs. McCoys; Billie Jean King vs. Bobby Riggs; Ginger vs. MaryAnn; the Dallas Cowboys vs. Just About Any Other Team In The NFL and of course, My Hair vs. Humidity. Today, we look at yet another epic 'struggle' and conflict with which countless have taken serious issue.
Do you ever wonder what you can or should do for a friend or family member after they have experienced the death of someone close to them? Should you mention the person who died? Will it upset them if you do? How do you find the words to express your condolences?
Not a day goes by that I don't look for him in other people's faces. Not a day goes by that I don't grasp to hold the memories together. Not a day goes by that I don't try to hear his voice again so that I won't lose it. Not a day goes by that I don't try to question him for the answers to my doubts.
In honor of my dad, Robert Michelson, one of the most incredible men who ever spent a little time on this planet -- and in honor of the pain and grief and wonder conjured by death -- I am sharing five things that I learned while helping him die.
For me, any outside source or force asking me when I'll get better is going to be met with irritation. But if I do the asking, if I wonder -- myself -- what healing or recovery might look like, then it becomes a very different question.
The process of grief is sometimes likened to a cold, dark period of gloom. It affects us physically, psychologically, behaviorally and spiritually.
The sea was rough that morning. As the ship was being tossed from side to side, the sound of the waves could be heard slapping against the ship's hu...
Facing the same walls Daniel had faced night after night forced me to confront the truth. My pulsing anxiety stemmed from the realization that I wasn't searching through Daniel's belongings to honor him. I was up there for entirely self-serving purposes.
To be there with my mother at this sacred time of her life, was the greatest gift I have ever received. We -- her family -- were her ushers. Taking her hand and escorting her from this world to the next.
I confess... I am a blonde-haired, green-eyed, modern-day dinosaur.