TW Column by Steven Lewis
Yet, don’t think for a moment that we five were not swept along in the undeniable currents that carried Neil beyond himself.
Yet, don’t think for a moment that we five were not swept along in the undeniable currents that carried Neil beyond himself.
It will take many months, if not years, to reach a sense of closure. And yet, we survive.
It would be nice if there were only one storyline for this tragedy, but there isn’t.
I’d never witness her body’s natural aging process—her bones becoming brittle, her hair turning white.
In many ways, remembering is a leap of faith, just as writing is.
I sought the peace of silence, but I couldn’t submerge the storyteller forever.
I learned that although death was final, we weren’t allowed to mourn our losses.
As I open each envelope, the ancient rubber bands holding it together fall into little worms at my feet.
Natalie Babbitt’s story has been on my mind all week as I sat by my mother’s bed in the nursing home.
My memories of loved ones are always intertwined with food.