
When I first heard the news of my son’s suicide, the weight of it lay heavy on my chest, pressed me to the floor, and pinned me to my despair. As I moved through this journey called grief, I had days where it opened so wide with love and appreciation, I thought it might explode.

There were many times when I felt as if I was a kite on a tight string in a high wind flapping furiously in circles–ready to snap any moment. Darkness would move in and rob my motivation, take my … Read more...