The concept of God seemed to be filled with empty promises, ambiguous ideology about His view of humanity and morality, and cherry-picked scripture verses from the Bible that had nothing to do with me. God started to seem like a figment of everyone’s imaginations and nothing more, and yet I am still angry, and trying to salvage remnants of my faith.
Read MoreI shudder, breaking the spell. It's all back—the room, the kid, the celebration. He was born, and lived. And the guests, all of us, are richer, better for it. I'm wrung out and sad. I wonder, again, what we missed out on because A did not live. Hey, world! You've missed out too.
Read MoreToday's guest post is from a musician who recently contacted us here at Glow. Latlaus Sky, made up of Brett and Abby Larson, have just completed their 14-track album "The End of Sorrow." While the album is a loose fictional narrative of loss, the questioning and sorrow is, like much fiction, from Brett's real life. He said to me—and I find truth in this—"It seems the stories we tell can sometimes come closer to us than the realities of fact. I have looked into the river of sorrow and my music is a search to follow this river to the sea."
Read More"Your daughter will be reincarnated as your oldest daughter's first child, and your son will be your second grandchild. They will be part of your family again. They have always been part of your family." I want this all to be true. I want Lucia to be a Buddha, while simultaneously and selfishly, I want her to come back. I want to hold her again, some day, even as an old woman. I want to bathe her, and feed her rice and beans. It wasn't her voice, but it was the hope that I may see her again. And maybe that was enough.
Read MoreI held, not for the first or last time, this paradox of belief and disbelief. I believed that our friend had an experience with our son’s spirit. And I didn’t believe it could happened at all. But this is the way I want it. I am selfish. I want to hold both possibilities together as true.
Read MoreBereaved parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion, and the other side of getting through this mess called grief.
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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.
Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.
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