There is little we know about how families grieve over time. Although the field of grief research is growing, we have yet to explore much about family bereavement. And we know even less about what happens to military families who have suffered the death of an active duty soldier.

With the number of military deaths increasing (not just those killed in action but suicides and accidents as well), there…

Getting Ginger was one of the few times I openly defied my dad. Mom wanted a dog, he didn’t. After their bird Livvie died suddenly in August 2005, he made it clear he didn’t want to attach to anything or anyone anymore. Period. But I thought because Mom wanted a dog, she should have one, sending me to the Albuquerque shelter where an employee led me to a fat, sad-looking white Labrador Retriever whose eyes held no happiness. He had suggested this particular dog because I explained my mom…

My dad holds me while Uncle Hank, right,

holds my cousin Sheri. St. Joe, Michigan, 1973.

Often after a loss in my life, I find myself digging through my mental archives trying to remember conversations and experiences with the person who just died. And many times I am disappointed at how little I remember. I can’t remember the many discussions…

This week my thoughts will be devoted to the upcoming birthday of my German Shepherd dog Daisy who died a year and a half ago. Daisy came to me as a puppy at a 5K-road race. It was the last one I attended, realizing that entrance fees would get expensive if I kept bringing stray dogs home.

Although I didn’t realize it at the time, she was a very special dog, the kind of dog that we feel lucky to have in our lives. She didn’t ask for much. She wasn’t a fan of being…

Recently, I sat at dinner with my friend Fred discussing a writing project that involved using my high school journals and the lessons I learned from my years of running competitively in cross country and track. I said something about the difficult relationship I had with my dad and how I debated including that. Fred looked puzzled and asked, “I thought you and your dad were good buddies?”



At that point, I realized that Fred didn’t know about those years with my dad, the…

Several days ago I had a birthmark removed from the side of my head. While the chances of it becoming cancerous are relatively small, the dermatologist was concerned because I turn forty later this year and the incidence of cancer in these particular birthmarks goes up at that point. Although my hair covers up the shaved spot and my Franken-girl stitches, I didn’t sleep that first night. Everything was turned around from my usual routine. I had to sleep on one side the entire night, they…

It’s been ten years since my book, Do They Have Bad Days in Heaven? Surviving the Suicide Loss of a Sibling , was published. And it’s been eighteen years since my sister Denise walked in front of a train just two weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday during my…