When my brother, Brett, died I was ten years old. Old enough to understand something horrible had happened. Old enough to have my world turned upside down. Old enough to miss him for the rest of my life. Yet, young enough to be shielded from the practicalities of death such as arranging a funeral, contacting family and friends, and managing his estate. After my sister, Ivy, died this > MORE
Here’s where I share my thoughts on all things grief, collapse, community, liberation, and love — so basically all things.