Toni Lepeska
When a Parent Dies
I thought I needed to get around people. What I needed was to be alone. I’m a loner of sorts. A homebody. An introvert. I was raised by a woman who left the house only two or three times a year. When the stay-at-home orders came down amid COVID-19 fears, I thought “I’ve got this.” …
We hear the phrase slip out of the lips of well-meaning friends at funerals – and we hear it now that a pandemic seeds fear and anxiety into our hearts and lives. But what does “God is in control” really mean? First, what it does not mean? It does not mean God sets out to …
Daddy was my first Valentine. Superman was my second. I cleaned out my parents’ house after their deaths and found a baseball card-type picture of Superman. I’d scrawled inside a cartoon bubble “I love you.” I spent the next four decades looking for a real, huggable Superman. For a man to sweep me up and …
Are you in the winter of the soul, a season of darkness and barrenness? Maybe you wonder if there could ever be a spring again. January is cold, even here in the South. The trees are bare. The ground is hard. The grass is pale. Life is asleep. Sometimes my inner life looks like the …
Change. It’s the time of year we embrace it. Change our weight. Change our attitude. Change our career path. We make resolutions, determined to be different in the New Year – to change. Other changes we fiercely resist. Familiarity is a comfortable companion. While routine rules, different drools. We like status quo. But change, as …
How do we survive the longest night of the soul? To whom or what can we turn? What hope is there to latch onto when our lives feel battered, damaged beyond repair? I pondered the longest nights of my soul the morning of the literal longest night of the year, December 21st, in the Northern …
As I tried to figure out how to put new life together after my parents’ death, I was tasked with figuring out what to do with their voluminous collection of cookbooks and recipes. It was Christmastime when I got to them. I’d held onto their home eight years, and I was still sorting not only …
I hauled the boxes down from the attic, opened the lid and picked out one of the objects inside. It had belonged to my parents. I held it as if it may break, and then I caressed it. I smiled. And then I cried. My mother and father felt so close. And so far away. …
A dozen thoughts whirl around my head about my parents and my care-giving days as I navigate a new, temporary reality – being the one to receive care. This reality is opening up an old chapter on my life that was filled with stress and grief. A chapter that I thought was behind me, fully …
