A multifaceted blog for multifaceted people
For people like me, there’s a sense of loss from the abrupt ending of Anthony Bourdain’s huge contribution to the canons of travel, food and cultural understanding, and a reluctant but absolutely unavoidable comparison to our own unwelcome experiences with the savage, raw, rollercoaster aftermath of suicide.
Thanksgiving weekend, eight of us family members spanning three generations packed into my Honda Pilot and headed down to the Bolivar Peninsula where I grew up. We were on a mission to visit Dad’s favorite restaurant down there, and remember him. It was a perfect […]
Labor Day weekend of 2000 was the last time I saw my Mom; we shared cherries and empathy at the beach house on the Bolivar Peninsula.
A gift of a live and blooming hibiscus, with a heartfelt haiku to celebrate Dad’s life.
A Modern Requiem, a new tune from jazz composer Thomas Wenglinski. It’s lovely, and dedicated to his late grandfather, Frank Harvell.
a free verse remembrance for an amazing man
My uncle Nathan, my mother’s brother, would have been 70 this month. He was only 40 when he died in 1988. Sad and shocked, I wrote this poem for my Mom at the time and it was part of his memorial service. Just today, I […]
Reblog of the Thrive Global article about the grieving process by Katherine Schafler, NYC-based psychotherapist, writer and speaker.
an open window, the soul outlasts the body: eternal spirit This single open window at the Notre Dame cathedral in Paris inspired my haiku. It is a very peaceful and comforting place. Dad is not gone, just in a different form. Travel is so illuminating […]
When you lose someone you love, you go through changes that you cannot control. Some part of you goes away for a while, trying to process it. Some other part tries to maintain the status quo, to “be strong”. You hold some of yourself in […]
A little bee poem from a grieving and grateful daughter about making Dad-memories into honey.
Glover Gardens mourns the loss of patriarch and muse Frank Harvell and shares his obituary.
Today would have been my brother’s 49th birthday.
This is a quiet little poem for him.
This little memoir is dedicated to everyone who loved my brother Steve, and has the same bigger-but-now-broken heart because of his presence in your life.
