Charles always knew how to make me laugh when I was low

Daniel

By Danielle Warren with her permission to repost this message. Moms who’ve lost a child don’t get to have new memories of that child. The existing ones are all we have but we don’t know all of them and always open to hearing a story about our child who died. read more

Just finished first draft of my book

Wow. I did it. First draft. By no means done but for the most part I had a working draft! Once I got started, I just went with it. Now the part where I need to market it to publishers. But first figure out which ones I might like to work with.

The book is co-written by my late son, Charles read more

I owe it to Charles and his memory to be my best self

When I suffered a devastating loss, my perspective changed. The first time I laughed, a part of me felt guilty and I had to fight to remind myself that Charles would want me to have fun. And I know he would want me to follow my heart and my passion.

Instead of feeling guilty for my about face, read more

And my heart stopped

This is not Charles.

It was taken about a year ago by a friend who I met at this restaurant. I am sitting at a table and I see this kid. The shock of a Charles look-alike made my heart skip a beat. I froze. I knew it would happen eventually. Charles even owned a pair of shorts just like those. read more

So I’m working on a book

It’s nonfiction, memoir style I guess. I’ve never done this. I’ve written ebooks for marketing–about 30 pages or so. At first it was so daunting but then, fortunately, an acquaintance of mine connected me with a writer named Susan, in Maine with whom I meet by phone.

She read more

So much hurt in his lyrics

I’ve been writing a book and Charles will be my co-author since I will be publishing some of his lyrics–ones published and some not published. The point will be to show you inside the mind of someone who suffered from addiction, read more

Did Charles ever really belong to us?

I birthed him, raised him, loved him. But I always had this feeling that he didn’t belong to me.

I remember when we sat with the minister to plan Charles’ memorial service, and he said, “Our children don’t really belong to us. They pass through us, are part of our families but read more

Charles loved the stage. And the stage loved him.

He owned an audience. Held it in his hands. He may have suffered anxiety but he was never anxious on stage. Ever. He connected with an audience and you knew he had something the moment he walked on stage.

During the play Hairspray, he apparently hid in the dumpster on stage. Naked. Everyone read more