PASTA week today, my wife and sons and I went to our boardwalk amusement park in San Diego. We rode the carousel, the Silly Submarine, the race cars, and played in the arcade. My sons were doing what they do best: having fun in the moment. My wife enjoyed herself, too, and we both took…
Comment of the Day: ‘My daughter passed away—we didn’t get to say goodbye’
Because ignoring the death of a child doesn’t mean the child hasn’t died.
14 months after losing our girls, we have experienced both joy and sadness, and incredible love from so many.
A father talks with his teens about suicide prevention.
Philadelphia isn’t immune to rioting, but officials say it’s the ahead-of-the-curve policing that differentiates it from its counterparts.
The electricity of the living and the dying churns through Dwight Gray’s poem.
Graciousness given. Graciousness received back. Beautiful.
What were the last words you said today?
The last words you posted?
Not everybody gets to be Emily Dickinson–something Amherst poet Gerald Yelle implicitly addresses in this poem of teenage friendship.
Mystical images pervade Adam Hughes’s poem on life’s very real and very disorienting shifts.
I am a Doomer. When I use the word “doom” it generally lets people know I have no hope.
Thinking about death at the time of a divorce may feel like too much burden to bear. However, it is often helpful to face these issues head on.
Spend the time having the difficult conversations. The dividends will be significant.
She is the ocean, I am the surfer, and without her there would be no me.