Grief is a sacred journey

My Land and Home

Coming Home

Not long before midnight, I put on my miner’s lamp and tour the yard like a one-eyed Cyclops. It’s March 19, 2012, usually a time for snow on my hill in the Finger Lakes of New York, […]

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Continuing Bonds

The year following my husband Vic’s death, his absence stunned me as I walked by his orderly shelves of books or smelled the acrid scent of firewood he had cut.  I woke up and went to sleep […]

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