bereaved parent
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Originally written on December 1, 2015. Tonight,sleep refuses to find me. The house is quiet,except for the steady rhythmof my son’s breathingas he dreamswithout knowingI’m counting the hours. I watch Emerson,safe in his bed,and gratitude fills one half of my heart. The other halfstill belongs to you. I look at your photographsand wonderhow someone so…
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They gave the monster a name. Not fate. Not chance. Not something I did wrong. A name made of too many syllables and not enough mercy. For weeks, I carried guilt like it belonged to me, turning every memory over in my hands, searching for the moment I thought I had failed you. Then the…
Between Bruises and Blooms 