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The Dark Side of Light, A poem

 The Dark Side of Light Do you work at the church? My husband would ask You're there all the time I volunteered myself often With feelings that I had a direct line Call Jesus up Heavenly Father hear my prayer But I never received an answer When my father on earth gasped for air There were no miracles When I closed his eyes  And ran my fingers through his hair He laid lifeless  The air was like broken glass Every breath painful It happened so fast The frantic call came on a Sunday It was the last day of July  I'm almost there, Mama just pray Never foreseeing goodbye Sprinting to the sliding doors  I looked from wall to wall I couldn't see my mama They pointed me down the hall Hysterical, confused, mama was terrified A nurse said it didn't look good And our hysterics were amplified  What do you mean? he is strong! He just needs more help I could see something was wrong What happened next is fucking hell I'll never know why they brought us in To see them give compressi
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Happy Retirement, Dad.

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Happy Retirement, Dad. That's what today's post should be about. I should be planning a party with all of his closest friends. I should be watching my mom search every inch of the internet to decide on which vacation they want to take first. I should be watching my kids run into his arms as he promises them more time with them now that he is done working.   He set a daily countdown on his phone to remind himself how many days were left until he retired. The countdown is over and he's not here to celebrate and that just seems so unfair.   I'm sad. Angry. Frustrated.   This was a day meant for him. He worked too damn hard to not be here for it.   I visited my mom this morning and she said my Dad's phone reminded her yesterday that it was his last day of work and today he was retired. Every second she's surrounded by the ghost of him. This day seems to sting more than the rest. Today was supposed to be a long awaited celebration.   Dad worked in Avionics. Some days
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The Condition of a Broken Heart in the "Worst Club Ever"

It's been 105 days since my Dad's heart stopped before my eyes. I want to share with you, honestly and transparently about how I feel.  I feel, tired.  I am a strong person. I can manage myself in most situations as an alpha female. I can go to the gym, work, and do normal social things without interruption of negative or sad feelings. I have days where I get teary, but the grief wave swells feel like they are further apart each time they happen.  However, there is something about grief that people don't really tell you, the condition of a truly broken heart and how it affects all the other parts of your nervous system.  In my personal experience, when you lose a loved one––in my case, a parent––your heart breaks a few times on an ordinary day. When you think about a vacation, a song, a joke, talk to a friend, see a photo, think of a memory, etc. You can't escape a broken heart. I am early in my grief journey but I don't know that I'll ever escape it.  How does 
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My First Real Signs from The Other Side

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I booked a little mini-vacation for our family to go "camping." I use quotations because my idea of camping is in a small cabin with a full kitchen and bath... on a campground. My husband and two children traveled 45 minutes away from our home to a relatively local KOA campsite in Lillian, Alabama. We arrived around sunset. It was beautiful, peaceful, and quaint. There is a long steep downhill that leads to the bay, there's a playground, your very own fire pit, and other fun little things to do. It's not too much or too little, but it's just enough to get away.  We rented a Deluxe Cabin. One bedroom, futon couch, full kitchen, full bath, a television with basic channels and air conditioning. You know, classic camping. I brought along the book I'd been reading, Signs by Laura Lynne Jackson. I was about halfway through and started to read it while the kids played outside. I read a specific sentence that surprisingly stuck with me. Nothing profound. Just a date,
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