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 →
You know it’s been a long time when you think it is the 15th anniversary of a death and then realize, counting backwards, that it's actually the 14th, and your brain has done bad math again. It might as well be the 100th, it feels so long. Or the first, all over again, because there's... Continue Reading →
It's just past Halloween, and we've finished All Souls Day on the Christian calendar, a time to commemorate our departed ones. Now Mexico is in the midst of Day of the Dead celebrations, one of two — or more — days for remembering and mourning those we loved and lost. I am so grateful for... Continue Reading →
It's the eve of my forty-eighth birthday. This is the last day I'll be the same age my big brother David was when he died — and, tomorrow, I'll be older than he ever got to be. When your sibling is already 12 at the time of your birth, and you are forever looking up,... Continue Reading →
Anne Pinkerton 