Grieving parents deserve spaces where they can be raw and real without censorship, where their pain isn’t policed or toned down for the comfort of others. It’s time for society to stop placing unrealistic expectations on mourning, allowing grief to be openly acknowledged and supported instead.
Pardon My Mess: Unfiltered Grief In Progress Read More »
Relationships after losing a child are complex and often irreparable, and sometimes the way people cope can leave you speechless. In the end, his choices were his own, and mine was to let it go—not without a dose of dark humor, because if grief has taught me anything, it’s that sometimes you have no choice but to laugh.
The Mourning Detour: Dead Ends, Fiancées and Scenic Disasters Read More »
In the quiet moment that followed, I saw Kingston’s message clearly in the glass half full—a reminder that even in loss, there’s a glimmer of fullness waiting to be seen. It was his way of showing me he was still here, guiding me to “live like Kingston,” to find light in the hardest places.
Talking about Kingston keeps him alive, allowing me to say, “He mattered, he still matters.” That night at the bar, simply sharing his stories with two strangers lightened the weight, reminding me that saying his name is like a lifeline through grief.
Whiskey and Truth Bombs Read More »
Without Kingston’s light, this holiday season feels empty and unbearable. His joy and brightness once made everything shine, but now, as we face our first Christmas without him, I’m left clinging to his memory, trying to find even a glimmer of joy in his absence.
Tis the Season: Merry Grief and Happy Hollow-Days Read More »
Grief doesn’t play by any rules—it sneaks in, even when you think you’re managing fine. One small moment, like a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich gone wrong, can unravel everything, but Kingston’s quiet reminders are always there, guiding me to be kind to myself in the mess.
Monday Morning Massacre: Grief, Chaos, and One Sticky Victim Read More »
After the loss of Kingston, the world moved on, but our grief hasn’t. We’re still here, trying to survive the aftermath, and while life goes on for others, our need for support has only grown. Kingston’s story didn’t end with his passing, and neither did ours.
The Weight of Support Read More »
I think back to the day Zuma told me we were keeping it. The glass pear had been sitting there
A Glass Pear: Heavy with Meaning Read More »
Part Two And yet, despite all of that—my insomnia, the anxiety, the grief clogging up every corner of my mind—there
The Space Between Us: Love Reunited Read More »
Part 2 I hadn’t heard the man enter the apartment or the door close behind him yet there he was.
An Open Door: What Darkness Knew Read More »
