Personal Essays

Returning to School After My Stillbirth

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My students were witness to my very public loss.

Searching for Signs

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The ninja squirrel in my kitchen wasn't my late husband saying 'hello.' It was a reminder of my new, unwanted role: single mother.

10 Lessons I Learned from My Friend’s 9/11 Death

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My best friend vanished without a trace that day. But the mark she made on my life has been indelible.

My Grief Made Me A Warrior

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Single and childless, I was used to doing things on my own. But the aftermath of my mother's death brought my loneliness to a whole new level.

It’s All ‘Grief Yoga’

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After my husband died, I brought a towel to exercise class to mop tears — not sweat.

We Held a Fake Wedding So My Dying Dad Could Be There

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Bridal magazines don’t really cover these unglamorous issues.

In the Face of Death, We Laughed

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As AIDS ravaged my friend's body, levity carried us through the end.

My Mom’s Final Gift to My Girlfriend and Me

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She pushed me away when I came out to her at 30. Right before she died, she pulled me back in.

How a Psychic Medium Broke Through My June Gloom

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An unexpected exchange reconnected me with my vivacious friend years after her death.

Becoming My Father — For My Son

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I cannot rescue my dad, but I can mentor my child.

Forgiveness, Father’s Day and Finding a Way Though

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I screwed up my dad's birthday a long time ago. His reaction continues to teach me lessons years after his death.

Laundry, Before and After

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I used to resent the endless sorting, washing and folding. Then my daughter got sick — and everything changed.

The Journey Cake

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The memory of a pastry my husband and I carried from Italy to L.A. carries me through my grief over his death.

How Can You Be Happy at a Time Like This?

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What it's like to have your mother die the week Trump was elected.

As a Gay Southern Christian, Rachel Held Evans Was My Lifeline

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The Church has never understood my existence. But Rachel did, and my grief over her death runs deep.

Important Guidelines for Large Adult Orphans

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On the one hand, you must become both parent and child; on the other, you may request to to be flown to Rome for a pasta dinner.

My Mom Wore a Sari So That I Could Run for Congress

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Memories of her valor, grace, and sense of self spurred me on during a campaign filled with racism and sexism.

Five Short Years, Five Whole Years

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Since my daughter was born, time has somersaulted, raced, oozed — giving me new perspective on the few years I had with my own mother.

Seeing My Daughter in Other People

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After she died, I was captivated by those who looked like her.

Modern Loss Avengers GOT

I Watched ‘The Avengers: Endgame’ and ‘Game of Thrones’ in the Same Week

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It was both masochism and meaningful, in the throes of grief over my mother's death.

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