grief – My Life in Paragraphs

Groundhog Hour and the Heavy Weight of Love

Between editing a raw memoir, managing an influx of foster pups, and moving 90-year-old parents into skilled nursing care, The fragile, funny, and heartbreaking nature of memory—and the unexpected ways technology keeps us connected to the ones we love.

Memory is a funny thing.

I’ve been doing the final edits for a memoir about an experience that devastated me. Working on it often brings tears. The further I get from that time, though, the softer my memory becomes. The pain is less sharp, and the lessons learned are hard but healing. I hope reading the story will help others see grief as a universal experience that ultimately teaches us and heals our hearts.

I’ve also been spending a lot of time with my parents these last few months. My mother’s memory is changing daily—it often feels like we’re riding a wave. One moment she is absolutely on top of the story or the situation we’re talking about, and other times she insists I must be making it up. Instead of Groundhog Day, sometimes being there can feel like groundhog hour.

What Happened When I Stopped Running

This past year has felt a bit surreal. As if the world was unplugged and we are collectively holding our breath, waiting for it to be plugged back in and spring to life like my laptop after a hard shut down.

Some writers I know have been absolutely unable to write. Their worlds disrupted understandably.

I was not one of those writers.