childhood grief

The Girl Left Behind – When Are We Going Home?

I don’t have many concrete memories from that day. There are no photographs or home movies to fill in the missing pieces. What remains are fragments—voices, expressions, nervous energy, and feelings that are difficult to put into words even now.

Everything felt surreal. I remember being anxious for George and me. I remember knowing that something terrible had happened without understanding what was going to happen to us next. No child should have to experience that kind of uncertainty.

“When are we going home?” I asked in my small voice.

No one answered.

“Would you like to stay here with us?” Aunt Connie asked. “Would you like to go to school here?”

Again, I didn’t answer. My father stood […]

Beneath My Silence — When I Feel Unseen

I learned young how quickly a life can disappear. One day there was a mother, a home, animals I loved, a room that knew my name, books and toys, friends and familiar hallways.

And then there wasn’t.

No goodbye to the life before. No place to put the memories. No permission to speak of what had been mine.

I learned to carry it quietly.

Perhaps that is why silence still finds the tender places in me. Why an unanswered call can become more than an unanswered call.

Why someone’s absence can awaken an old question:

Did I matter?

I have spent years trying not to ask too much of people.

I listen to their stories ~
their work, their families, […]