Toni Lepeska
When a Parent Dies
It’s appropriate this week to thank you – to offer gratitude – to you. I’m thankful for reader friends and for those who support my writing in any way. Whether it’s by following my blog or sharing a post, hitting “like” on social media, by showing up at a book signing, or by simply offering …
I will never see Halloween the same. I loved it as a child, but once you come face to face with real death, images of ghosts, ghouls and skeletons aren’t playthings anymore. I’m not trying to rain on the Halloween parade. Really. And I’m not such a stiff that I don’t participate. A few years …
I expected a grand attack of grief upon the 10th anniversary of my father’s death, but it passed with a poised emotional response at the cemetery and a handful of flowers. Not so this time. Next month marks the 12th anniversary of Dad’s death. And the ninth anniversary of Mom’s. And the 1st anniversary I’ll …
Do you ever feel like a dead loved one is near? I realized a distinct intensity to the feeling this Christmastime. It was without explanation, and then in less than 24 hours, I understood why. I don’t believe in visitations from the dead, nor should we seek them out. On the other hand, I believe …
Each Christmas is the first Christmas for someone – the first Christmas without mom or dad. Or without a husband or wife or child. Or without a grandparent or uncle or best friend. All the carols, all the joy, all the tinsel. It feels like a dagger to the chest. The loss of who isn’t …
I sensed a need to be in touch with my parents, and so I got out the greeting cards. I possibly have one of the largest collections known to man. I collected them from throughout the house. Over the past eight years, I discovered them inside dresser drawers, on top of the coffee table and …
I call July “death month.” My parents died three years apart, both in July. I’ve been through lots of Julys now, and I’ve noticed three ways I’ve responded. I think they can help you, too.
I discovered the homemade Mother’s Day card inside a box of her things and read what I’d written at the bottom as a young teenager. “If I didn’t have you what could I do?” Indeed, I told myself, sitting in her house among her things, This is the question I’ve lived with since she died. …
I once wrote that each Christmas gets better and better after losing someone you love to the grave. I meant well, but I was wrong. Stay tuned. There’s hope in this story. Last year, a great pall fell upon me for reasons I cannot pinpoint. I was unhappy with Christmas. Go away. …
