My husband accidentally hung himself as a child. He remembers slipping the rope around his neck then coming to on the floor with family members crying around him. He tells the story with a sense of detachment. “It was easy,” he said.
Sometimes nature gives timely reminders about the order of things, but I wasn't thinking about that when I grabbed my camera to catch a few shots of the fog. I wasn't thinking about anxiety either, but that came too. The perfect picture was always just a few more steps away, and soon I had ventured … Continue reading Taking Anxiety One Step At a Time
I place my hands on the body, close my eyes and wait. I wait for the body's response to my touch. Sometimes that comes fast. Sometimes there is no response. That is also helpful.
A discussion about desirable funeral homes and burial wishes ensued between my mother and me as we drove to church in an unfamiliar town. I swore at the voice coming from my phone for her split-second-too-late directions, while mom slammed on her imaginary brakes from the passenger side.
A skeleton lingered as she took a step forward. It wasn't eager to separate. Nothing happened for a few moments. I watched, feeling impatient.