This is not my son’s first birthday. It’s the first birthday since he died. He would have been 21.

Years ago, I dreamed we would be in a better place with Charles–with his depression and addiction. His sleep disorder, his anxiety, his ADHD. We worked so hard at it.
Instead we are grappling with his suicide. I still can’t believe it some days.
As I look back, I see things I didn’t see before.
I can’t even tell you how much I miss him. How much this hurts. I know you know that.
His birthday is my connection to him … Read more...







Nothing is worse for your grief than lack of sleep. You know if you don’t sleep you are weepier and more prone to sinking into the black hole of grief despair.


