Grief

Writing every day has been good. There’s a lot that I couldn’t post because it was just too dark; it was true, and I hope it will serve those who are going through that awful maze themselves someday, but it’s probably better off written as a book instead. I think …

I’m doing something normal today. I’m going to buy two tickets to the new Star Wars so I can see it with my hubby next month. I’m also hanging up four pictures in what I call the “fern room” (it’s just my living room, but in my mind, it’s Longwood …

I woke up and it was light. Friday was a dark, underwater day, but I was forced to rejoin the human race at Trader Joe’s, where a dear friend who happens to work there refused to leave my side, and helped me fill my cart with carbs and ready-made comfort …

You know, the day after the funeral is nothing like the day after putting on a conference. When I worked for the church and the conference was over, I knew I still had Christmas service to plan and Easter service to work out and the marriage conference for next year …

It feels so inappropriate that the world just keeps turning. Surely an hour must have more time in it than this. Ridiculous, right? This is where grief feels so self-indulgent. Because of course it must. I have a loving husband, and children, two beautiful children, alive with need, and joy, …

A few people have asked if I would post this; thank you genuinely for caring. Here are my departing words for my father, Joseph Charles Landolt (10/11/50 – 11/7/19). Hi everyone. Thank you for coming and supporting me and my family, and honoring my father’s life.  I wanted to share …

From my readings this morning: “They forgot what He had done, the wondrous works He had shown them. He worked wonders in the sight of their fathers. …He split rocks in the wilderness and gave them drink as abundant as the depths. But they continued to sin against Him, rebelling …