After entering foster care, I got used to losing physical things. But my mother's death isn't a loss -- it's an event, an experience that defies language.
I'm an EMT volunteer who knew the paramedics 'working my mother.' Finally reboarding an ambulance a year after her death, I discovered a new dimension to my service.
The long-delayed process of drafting my will was even more painful than I expected. We don’t really need this, I kept thinking. Doing a will is for other people. People who die.
Jeff Schmalz was my advocate in the newsroom — and the first openly gay man I knew. Even years after his death, his influence on my life takes on new forms.