WALKS WITH GRIEF

I took a walk with Grief today. By turns, he nipped along at my heels and pulled me onward, a mercurial dog that cannot be satisfied at one

By Makeba Dixon-Hill The earliest memories I have of grief in nature were connected to my dad’s funeral. I. I was heading home from...

Grief often carries one into anger. I can’t feel angry about it. Weird though it sounds, I’ve actually tried. She was suffering, in pain, he

I remained fascinated with zombies, who were dead but still lived their lives. I remember thinking how much the living people I knew in my

I write to collect the jigsawed pieces of a broken mirror that my insides have become and try to make sense of things.

Moving past them meant I first had to open closed places inside myself. There I found a sort of Pandora’s Box of shocks, and I was knocked t