Gemma arrived home just as the red sky marked the end of another winter’s day. Juggling her purse, gym gear and phone in one hand, she stood at her doorstep and plunged her free hand in the gaping stomach of her backpack. After a moment of rummaging, her fingers grazed against the cold, pointed metalContinue reading “The locked door”
Tag Archives: grief
Grief is not an ocean
Have you ever noticed that when we talk about grief, people will mention the ocean? If you listen carefully, especially when the mourner is reeling, that expansive body of water is practically guaranteed to get a mention. It usually goes something like this: The bereaved will start by describing an idyllic scene. They’ll be standingContinue reading “Grief is not an ocean”
Backyard tales 