By Sherrie Cassel The moon refused to disappear into the sky this morning greedily taking away from the sunrise. I do not begrudge the moon refusing to submit; it lights our nights, along with the stars on a clear desert night – and it holds space for the sun, until it must wrestle for topContinue reading “The Last Stretch”
Tag Archives: death
Mining Grief
By Sherrie Cassel The condensation drips like diamonds onto my glass table, a thrift store find. I’m mesmerized by the beauty of drops of water, and I marvel at the ecosystem contained within each tiny drop – and I drink the tiny globes on my glass. As the sun rises in the sky from theContinue reading “Mining Grief”
When Healing is the Only Choice
By Sherrie Cassel Three months have passed since the ten-year angelversary of my son’s transition, and it took me a while to adjust to his death. I’m not sure one ever gets past the death of a loved one; we just learn how to navigate the world without that person who felt like an appendageContinue reading “When Healing is the Only Choice”
Transitional Objects
By Sherrie Cassel I’m staring at the dried, yellow flowers immortalized in clear resin and mounted on a piece of dark wood. This is a gift my son gave to me when he was just a young child. With no child support from a dead-beat biological father, money was always tight, and thrift stores wereContinue reading “Transitional Objects”
On this First Day of the Year
By Sherrie Cassel On this first day of the year, I pledge to honor my emotions as they arise, the good, the bad, and the infantile. Hey, it happens. On this first day of the year, I pledge to be like Michael J. Fox and Stephen Hawking, who, despite their challenges, continue to inspire. OnContinue reading “On this First Day of the Year”
Is it necessary to forgive — even posthumously?
By Sherrie Cassel Mom would be eighty-four today. I miss her so very much. We drove each other crazy — often; this is common in dysfunctional families, but…we loved each other fiercely; it’s called trauma bonding. Mom always liked to be the first person to call each of her children on his or her respectiveContinue reading “Is it necessary to forgive — even posthumously?”
Emily Dickinson
by Sherrie Cassel The psychedelic lights undulate on my office ceiling. Springsteen is lightly playing his harmonica, and I am grateful…a sixty-three-year-old hippie wannabe. I wasn’t old enough to be truly aware of the bombs bursting in midair. What does it mean to “lose someone in the war” when you’re only five years old? I’veContinue reading “Emily Dickinson”
Song Choice
By Sherrie Cassel There is a bird, brightly colored; it always has a lilt in her chirp, which I interpret from my hedonistic brain as a sense of joy. The lacrimose mountain tanager’s name means sorrowful or tearful, despite her happy tune. The theory of how she got her name, it is suggested, may beContinue reading “Song Choice”
Dancing to the Dirge
By Sherrie Cassel I don’t do viewings at funerals. I prefer to remember my loved ones as they were on our last happiest day together. Besides, the three times I’ve viewed a loved one during an open coffin celebration of life, the person looked nothing like herself. No, it’s difficult enough to lose a personContinue reading “Dancing to the Dirge”
Rationalizing until the Cows Come Home
By Sherrie Cassel Dedicated to the Esperon Family The world would be silent, but “American Pie” is playing on my phone and I’m grateful for the noise. I’m listening as Don McLean sings about the spirit of my generation. I think about how Lennon read a book on Marx and how when someone is inContinue reading “Rationalizing until the Cows Come Home”
Grief to Gratitude 