It is April 6, the anniversary of Maya’s death in 1992, a day when my internal clock stopped. My daughter is dead. After more than two decades, I am still not used to that. I see Maya as a vibrant 19-year-old. But she would be turning 41 this October. Her grave lies...
Talking about the death of my daughter detonates every parent’s worst fear. “That’s the ultimate loss,” they say. “I can’t even imagine it.” Telling people you are a bereaved parent is like telling them you have cancer. In the early years of grief, I felt like a...
In the movies, relatives gather around for last words from their dying loved one. They lean in for that last pearl of wisdom or poignant plea for forgiveness. Real life is a little different. My sister Cathy bent over my father’s bedside and said, “Dad we all love...
Here's the story of why I named this blog "That's the Way Life Lives." When Maya was five years old we moved to California. In Swimming with Maya, I recount the joys and difficulties of adjusting to life in the Sierra foothills outside of Nevada City. Just six weeks...
My publisher asked me to identify ten quotes from Swimming with Maya for promotional blurbs. OK, I thought to myself, how hard can that be? But I delayed, blaming it on the demands of the holidays. Finally, on New Year’s Day, I sat down with a hardback copy of my book...
Their smiles kill me. A six year old’s gap-tooth grin flashes on the TV screen and I sob. As a grieving parent with 20 years of experience – and believe me, grief is a job - I mourn knowing there’s always more in the bank of tears. The mass killing in Newtown...
I first met Madeline Sharples at a writing workshop at Esalen. I was immediately drawn to her calm, empathetic manner, her beauty, and her poems. We quickly learned that we shared some important life experiences - we were both grieving mothers and both of us were...
Up to my chin in 105 degree water, suphur pricked my nostrils as I bobbed in velvety fluid. I felt as if I had returned to childhood when play and exploration were the focus of my days. My flip flops slapped the wooden deck as I padded from the mineral baths to an...