Silence — it’s deafening. I look around at this empty apartment and take in the sinking feeling that I’m alone.
New Yorkers seem to crave “alone time.” I see individuals sitting on park benches all over the city, stealing moments, staring into space, encased in an invisible aura of solitude. It’s quite a feat actually to do this amidst the noise and tidal wave of humanity that ebbs and flows through …
When I first started facilitating a grief support group shortly after moving to New York, my aim was simply to create a supportive environment for members to heal from their grief and to form long lasting bonds of friendship. In the course of five months however, I’ve begun to wonder whether emotional and psychological healing can be contained into an end goal with a finish line.
For the most part, authors …
Theirs is a lonely journey; to be moving towards the separation and end of all things known and loved.
Being with a dying person is challenging; it penetrates through discomfort seeking honesty and courage. It brings you confrontationally into the present which is shocking for many. But if you spend time with the dying you’ll find that their needs are not so different from ours, only they have a limited time …
I’m not sure when I stopped missing my husband. I suppose familiarity crept in after 7 years together and I rarely felt the pining, agitated pain of separation that I relished in the early days of our passionate love.
Running our restaurant from waking to sleep, 6 days a week meant that we were rarely apart. So JP had become as familiar to me as my 4 limbs, an essential part …
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