Today is Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, which I've written about before because I find it so beautiful and moving, and — dare I say — refreshingly normal and healthy? I love that a culture makes a point to acknowledge death, especially in the celebratory way that those Mexico and elsewhere... Continue Reading →
A decade ago, when my then-husband and I were looking for a bigger house in our area, we continually perused a neighborhood about 10 minutes away, specifically one long street lined with 100-plus year old Victorians in various states of repair and disrepair divided by a dreamy esplanade full of maples and crab apple trees.... Continue Reading →
A couple of days ago, one of the many grief-y Instagram accounts I follow posted: “Death anniversary. The shittiest of all anniversaries.” And I went, “well, duh.” Seeing on it the day before the 15th anniversary of my brother David's death, I was especially unimpressed with its lack of profundity. But it offered an important... Continue Reading →
Me and David on his birthday in 1977 or 1978, I think... Every year on this day, I celebrate the fact my big brother was born. And I mourn the fact that he isn't growing any older, since he died almost 15 years ago. Today, David would have turned 62. Sixty-two! An age that, when... Continue Reading →
Sometimes it feels like everything that ever happened to me has compounded. As if the addition of all my life's wins and losses doesn't balance out; instead, it is more than its sum. And that this journey is one gigantic emotional roller coaster of highs and low. Grief can loom larger, and more dramatically. There... Continue Reading →
Anne Pinkerton 