Seven days ago, I went no contact with the last remaining link to my family: my father. It was something I needed to do. The
Day 6: The Silence
Today was the first Saturday of my new reality. For years, Saturdays meant a phone call from my father. Sometimes too early. Sometimes at inconvenient
Day Five: Remembering the Closing of Doors
Today was Day Five. There were fewer tears today. In fact, I almost made it through the day without crying at all. The tears only
Day Four: The Wanderer
This morning I woke up crying. It was literal lamenting. It wasn’t the quiet kind of tears that disappear as quickly as they arrive. These
Day Three: Anger Mixed With Sadness
Today I discovered that grief is not made of sadness alone. Most of the day was sadness. Heavy sadness. The kind that settles into your
Day Two: The Weight of Grief
Day two was no different than day one. The shock wore off, but the grief remained. Maybe that’s what day two really is. The day
My Voice Unchained 