It had been two days since Charles’ death and my kitchen was packed with people. I was so grateful that all our friends and neighbors knew to come over. From 11am-5pm every day for seven days, our house was filled.
The three hours I spent the day after with just my husband and myself after Charles’ suicide in what seemed like a cavernous house was unbearable. I needed others in the room to absorb some of the overwhelming grief–grief that took me to my knees multiple times per day.
On that second day, standing in the kitchen with friends and … Read more...