Grief’s Journey

Sharing a few words on grief and healing…

luceleaf journal


I remember the night I got the call. You know, the kind of call that none of us wants. There had been an accident, and he was gone.
Not a day of my life had gone by without him in my world. The youngest of my 3 older brothers, he was 12 years old when I was born, and he was the quintessential “big brother.” Loving, overprotective, funny, and artistic, he won every thumb war and tickle fight. He looked out for me, wanted the best for me, and brought Technicolor to my little world.
In the days after the call, in the gathering of friends and family, the laughter and the tears, the shock and disbelief, I recall having a strange quietness inside of me. It was a stillness of sorts, as I hugged my sister-in-law and nephews, my siblings and cousins, as I held my mother in her…

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