Category: Grief

Plot Twists and Spider Web Coffee

There is a reason for every season of the heart. Half in light and half in dark is where we start. Half in light and half in dark is where we are. We are one beating heart. ~ The Midnight

It was just an ordinary Thursday morning at the office. After adding water to the coffee maker, I sat down at my desk ready to seize the day. As people started trickling in to enjoy the morning’s fresh brew, one of my coworkers brought the coffee pot over to me and indicated I should look inside. There I saw a sight I will never forget: a spider…had spun a web…across the opening…of the coffee pot. I was horrified. How had I not noticed that? Was it possible that after I walked away, the itsy bitsy spider crawled up the coffee pot as fast as his little legs could carry him, and spun his web while the coffee was drizzling down into the pot? Also…how was itsy bitsy not scorched from the hot coffee?! No arachnid super powers were transferred to anyone at the office that morning, but needless to say I will be checking for spiders and webs before making another pot of coffee for the rest of my life...

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Letter to Helen

To my great-grandma Helen ~ Mother of my grandma. Matriarch of the family. Lady of mystique.

Dear Helen ~ You don’t know me, but I’ve heard stories about you all my life. I’m your daughter Sheri’s oldest granddaughter. I wish I could have met you; you’re the missing person I’m often wondering about. The older I get, the more I think about you and your impact on our family, and how at age 36, I’m a year older than you were when you were gone way too soon from this life. I often wonder how different our lives would have been had you been here with us. I think your story in particular is why I feel emotions so deeply. Why I have always thought about life and death so seriously. Why I want to live life to the fullest amount of joy and passion possible. We aren’t guaranteed a long life on this earth: we only have this present moment…

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Tribute to Cyndi

I didn’t originally write this as a blog, but thought this might be a good place to post it.

My heart is so heavy, and I’ve never had this much trouble putting words together. I don’t know how to express the impact this woman has had in my life. Cyndi was one of a kind. We met on the tennis courts about four or five years ago and became fast friends. But she was the kind of friend who became more like family. She was always there to help, or offer wise words of encouragement, or just to listen. Whatever we did, there was always good food involved, either prepared by her (she was an amazing cook!) or exploring new restaurants. Lunch dates, doggie play days, hiking, shopping, chats about life…so many everyday normal kind of memories together with her that I cherish.

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I Love You, Papaw

“I love you, girl.”  It wasn’t the last thing he said to me, but it’s the last thing I specifically remember him saying.  He never called me “girl.”  It was always “sweetie” or “Mal.”  Sometimes he’d sing, “Mallory, Mallory, Mallory, Mallory, life is but a dream,” and I’d laugh.  This sounded different.  I thought it was both cute and sincere, like he viewed me as a friend, and like he was trying to say “I love you” in a different way so I would know how much he really meant it.  I got to see him just one more time after that.  Our last few visits were so special to me because they were days when he was in good spirits, but I was also aware our time together was drawing short.  Before I left, I hugged him, held his hand, and told him I would see him later.  It’s hard to remember specifics of what we talked and laughed about in those last visits.  You try to commit those final precious moments to memory, but the details kind of end up being a blur.  Nothing that significant happened.  I was just thankful to have more time with him. 

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