I hear them (and not in a Sixth Sense kind of way, well, maybe). Both of them. Mostly her. The “quiet” times are the most prevalent…
Continue readingEchoes in the quiet
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Tag Archives: murder suicide
Tis the season
Spring is a busy time in the suicide prevention community in terms of conferences and fundraisers. For me, it coincides with the death of Jesse and Bella.
Continue readingA broken heart
Literally.
Continue readingHere is the code
We all have to-do lists. For me, it keeps me somewhat organized: running a business, doing advocacy work, getting ready for the holidays, throwing surprise parties, etc. But there are those items that are super hard. Like, I don’t wanna hard. And FYI, there are some details in this you may not want to read if you are sensitive. Not many and not graphic, but being one who is sensitive to things, trying to be empathetic to others. Continue reading
It’s the little things – how life can be overwhelming for someone with a history of trauma
I can count on one hand how many days since Jesse and Bella died in 2014 that I have had motivation and energy for an entire day. It actually astounds me that I have gotten as much done as I have. Continue reading
Holding the Space
I have mentioned in many a post how I have been waiting for my kid’s grief to come to the surface, as it inevitably does for all of us at some point or way. Over the past few months, it has been bubbling to the surface. It is heart breaking as a parent when we see our kid in pain and can’t take it away or make it better. Today was no different. Continue reading
It is National Suicide Prevention week
Yesterday was World Suicide Prevention Day. Did you know that? What do you do for it? Did you even know it was a “thing”? Continue reading
It would have been 4th Grade
As I scroll down my Facebook feed at all the back to school pictures, I am left wanting and conflicted. Continue reading
NAGC Conference
I tried last week, I really did, but just couldn’t
I tried to write last week, I really did, but I just couldn’t. I started a letter to Maribella for her upcoming birthday, and every time I wrote a line, a tear escaped, each tracing a new pattern down my face, a torrent threatening behind. All while I was numb. Continue reading