Her little ‘boutique’ of gifts taught me that giving is meant to be a joy. By Vincent O’Keefe
loss
Maybe I wasn’t supposed to see her like that. Topless. Grinning. Young. But I’m glad I did. By Samantha Woods
Grief doesn’t step aside for joy. It walks with it—quietly, steadily. By Elizabeth Candy
I was terrified that love without blood ties would not be enough in court. By Jose Cardenas
Modeling kindness for your child, you rush to PetSmart for provisions. By Rachael Holliday
Make sure you have healthy adults to lean on so that you’re not tempted to lean on your kids.
I was in no hurry to let go of my grief. It was what I had left of my daughter. By Mary Janevic
When I forgot my homework or my pants ripped at recess I dialed on auto-pilot. By Jonathan Meyer
In death as in life, she would be surrounded by nature’s bounty. By Megan Hanlon
What if you are the best mother you can be and it’s still not enough to save your child? What if one mistake is the fatal bite? By Lauren Weiss
It has to be a single leaf, floating through the sky by itself. Do you have a mom sign? By Kandace Chapple
We pull ornaments from boxes labeled in my mother’s loopy cursive, giving our tree the same homespun look hers always had. By Mary Janevic
I ignored her recipe for many years as a way to avoid the loss. By Marcia Kester Doyle
How exactly could I break this news to a kid who already went to bed every night scared of death to the point of tears? By Tanya Mozias Slavin
Hearing “nonviable” is heartbreaking. Having to ignore that in front of 32 smiling second graders is even harder. By Caitlin Cherry
They are part of my life’s topography. Tiny specks on my map of choices, loves and losses, hurts and heartbreak. By Jordan Namerow
Losing my mother, especially at a young age, was like losing my compass. By Gina Luongo
My mom took off her scarf and revealed her bald head. We all braced ourselves, but the woman at the shop didn’t flinch. By Kandace Chapple
On carrying grief forward, not getting over it. A Motherwell interview with Nora McInerny.
So much of who we are has to do with how we think about our own parents and our own childhood.
Next to Orion’s Belt are two dimmer stars. These are the babies I lost, one before each of my sons. By Julia Pelly
Our daughter asked good questions—what about the other baby? Were we sad? Why did it happen? By Cynthia Nuara
I sent you a bowl of black stones because of the hardness of loving a child for exactly who he is. By Brianne DeRosa
If my belly was round and full of baby, would I hate my body less? This body that betrayed me. By Brittany Wren
It had been a long time since I’d heard her laugh. It felt like clouds parting. By Stewart Lewis