Grief and Graduation Blues

By Sherrie Cassel Grief is funny; it ebbs and flows in and out of our awareness. Today I’m starkly aware I’m a woman, a parent, who has lost a child, flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone. Some days I feel the separation – just like the moment he was yanked from my body.Continue reading “Grief and Graduation Blues”

Family Trauma and Posttraumatic Growth

By Sherrie Cassel There was an article I read in ~Nature~, one hundred years ago that discussed some research that was done with plants. One plant was nurtured and loved, taken care of with all its needs met. A different plant had all its physical needs managed, water, sun, foodplant, the difference, however, was theContinue reading “Family Trauma and Posttraumatic Growth”

Easter Vigil

By Sherrie Cassel Christians all over the globe are keeping vigil over the tomb of Jesus, their Savior, who will shock them in the morning with a magic trick so potent, its effects have survived two millennia and through many iterations. The Gospel story speaks to them, and because of my own familiarity with theContinue reading “Easter Vigil”

Psych Meds and Other Coping Strategies

By Sherrie Cassel This morning, my husband and I were listening to John Prine, a sage intellectual with just enough hick to make him truly entertaining with his similes and his metaphors for cheatin’, heartbreak, and a good shot of whiskey. He has passed away, but he left a musical legacy behind that is rightContinue reading “Psych Meds and Other Coping Strategies”

Twelve Stepping Baristas at Al Anon Meetings and the Fourth Step

By Sherrie Ann Cassel The coffee at Al Anon meetings is always perfect; it’s like those whose service task is making coffee for the meeting have a gift for concocting the magic elixir that keeps one awake until her voice shakes as she shares her angst about her addicted loved one. Al Anon did saveContinue reading “Twelve Stepping Baristas at Al Anon Meetings and the Fourth Step”

Stoking the Embers

By Sherrie Cassel I held it up to my face, my left cheek, of course, because of your handedness. _____________________________________________ The round ceramic dish with your name scrawled on the bottom is _____________________________________________ shiny and green, like a cactus, no spines, just innocent little fingerprints, proof you were here. _____________________________________________ Years later we would laughContinue reading “Stoking the Embers”

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