An enthusiastic veteran of a Gateway Voyage recently dubbed the magical place where she’d had one unforgettable adventure after another—“Hogwarts for adults.”
“Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it” says Joan Didion, a writer who suddenly became a widow and decided to pull no punches about the grieving process.
The days after my mother’s passing were solemn ones which is why the lighthearted reunion with dearly departed relatives shortly before her transition was such a balm for the soul.
In hospice, at the close of her life here, my mother told me repeatedly that she was not afraid to die. That said, she was in no hurry to do so either.
Barely out of college—even skipping the usual graduation hoopla—I flew for the first time to New York City, having arranged “to hitch my wagon to a star.”
In the past couple of weeks, in a flurry of texts and conversations, I’ve had a front row seat to the marvels of angels at work in my daughter Liv’s life.