Categories
Poetry

Stowaway On a Cloud

A short poem about grieving the loss of my dad in my life and the crow that helps me alleviate this pain

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

The Water Sure Is Cold. Deep, Too.

One of the most memorable nights of my life with my cousin Gary involved a urinal at a now defunct bar in Charlottesville.

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

I Still See You

What May 21 means in my life

Categories
Personal Musings

Sometimes Sadness Feels Happy

Sometimes sadness feels happy. Sometimes sadness keeps my head. Sometimes it helps me get by. Bouncing Souls I was putting my son to bed last night, when he paused from reading his book A House for Hermit Crab by Eric…

Categories
Health and Wellness Writing

Your Story Matters: Processing Pain and Trauma

Serani continues, pointing to humans’ basic need to understand, citing research that to begin the healing process we must tell our story: “Our personal narrative offers us a chance for not just understanding, but for reorganization [of] our sense of self. A self that was wounded, broken, frightened or lost—but can now be reclaimed.”

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

My Dad Died, But He Is Not Dead

Something kids of dead parents know is this: it gets better, but only when you accept the pain and look the suffering in the eye and ask, “What do you want me to know? What is it you want me…

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

Where My Father Once Stood

The urine and fallen hair at the base of the toilet were reminders of where my dad once stood.

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

When Depression Comes to the Workplace

On January 29, 2010, eight months after my dad died from leukemia, my depression reached its peak and I attempted to quit my job. That morning in an email to my manager and director, I wrote…

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

Grief Is a Fire, Smoldering

Grief is a fire that burns slowly. There are no flames high as with anger. The coals are hot just below the surface, smoldering.

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

When the nightmares began

Shortly after my dad died, I began sleepwalking and experiencing night terrors. Then my dad appeared to me in a dream.

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

I Cry Myself to Sleep at Night Sometimes

I close my eyes and there you are. I’m listening to the music now. It’s dark now. No one knows I cry myself to sleep at night sometimes.

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

Do I Pack for My Dad’s Funeral?

May 21 is a rather significant date on the calendar for me. It represents two things. #1: It was the last day I saw my dad alive It was the day I received a phone call at 2:00 in the…

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

Let It Wayne

Six years ago, I sat in my apartment with my dad and watched the 2009 NCAA Men’s Basketball Championship. It was the last time we would ever be alone together.

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

May 21 Is My Dog’s Birthday, Not the Day My Dad Died

May 21 is my dog’s birthday, not the day my dad died. That’s how I like to think of this day every year.

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

I Love You So Much, I’m Eating Sardines

Happy birthday to my dad

Categories
Memoir Nonfiction

A Greater Plan: A Son Remembers His Dad on Father’s Day

June 2009 Not in the least do I find a tinge of coincidence that my first full day as a husband, as the head of a household and of my own new family, is the same day as Father’s Day,…