First rites, last rites

First rites, last rites

We were in shock, and we had no obvious religious or cultural traditions to follow in this situation. What was offered to us was either a religion we didn’t believe in, or nothing at all. We didn’t have the energy or creativity in that moment to invent our own tradition, so it was nothing. No one around us stepped in, maybe because our entire community lacks a clear set of rituals or guidelines for how to respond to serious illness or death. 

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At the kitchen table: introductions and an invitation

At the kitchen table: introductions and an invitation

It’s our turn now to set the table, put the tea and coffee on, and invite you to pull up a chair. At this kitchen table, you can tell your story if you want, or just listen. Here, your grief is welcome, in all its variations, its beauty and ugliness, love and anger, hope and bitterness. Here, you’re not alone. We’re so glad you found us.

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The reins

The reins

I founded Glow in the Woods in spring 2008, one year almost to the day after my son Liam died in the NICU after six weeks of love, longing, and agony. I spent the next ten years assembling many talented writers to build the community here at Glow, and writing Notes for the Everlost, which came out in Fall 2018. All these years later, emails like Christine’s — and all the writing here, all your stories — still make me cry. But not in a sad way, oddly. It’s just a repeated humbling, a circular sharing of love and company with other parents who understand.

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