My brother, a real estate attorney who lived on New York's Upper East Side, was the last person I would have expected to tell me he thought he would go somewhere after dying, especially someplace as undocumented and wooey-wooey as the afterlife. Jack went only to places covered in The New York Times Travel Section -- London, Paris, Jerusalem.
For those whose life horizons are drawing near, the book teaches about how to let go, not just of life but of the people who will survive you. It speaks to finding your voice to be able to live as you need to, not how others may need you to be. It speaks to how to say goodbye in ways that give needed closure to a life, for all involved.
If we are breathing, it is an opportunity to help another, to do an act of kindness, to make a difference.
For all who have lived through these long, protracted battles, I dedicate Memorial Day to our spouses, our loved ones, who finally succumbed. But not with a fight. A national holiday to honor their true fighting spirit. And a way for us to always remember.
If you're wrestling with what to share or not share about your relationship, here's what you should know: The reality is, everyone has imperfect relationships.
My daughter is weeks away from celebrating her seventh birthday. We've experienced additional and unexpected deaths in the family since her paternal grandfather's departure. She often recalls our reading of the children's book that helped her understand the cycle of life.
In the hours and days after having my baby, I cried. This is a normal part of childbirth as your hormones go crazy. But at some stage during the days after childbirth and before leaving hospital the tears morphed into worried thoughts of death and dying.
There might be lessons here, about trusting your own heart, leaning into the places you are deeply broken. There might be places to explore, ways to find out if any of your deep self remains, given what you have endured. So learn, yes. Study your own heart, yes.
We talked of holidays and the ache of getting through them without the one who has been by our side for so long. And we talked of traveling, alone, to places new and places familiar.
In 1991 my father was given six months to live, but he spent the next 10 years fighting for his humanity. It was in his final days, with the laws of our country challenging his dignity, that he showed what it is to be truly courageous. This is where my new film Lullaby began.
It should come as no surprise that I receive my fair share of invitations to grief workshops, grief conferences, grief seminars and so forth. One such recent invitation included a description of a grief workshop that kind of -- well, horrified me.
What will happen to your small business after you pass away? While death may not be the first thing that comes to mind when planning for your business this year, the answer to this question is more important than many realize.
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.