Whether we are ready or not, life continues and time marches on. We all have to adjust to new normals, even when we don’t think we can.

So I will breathe in and try to believe: Today we ache. Tomorrow we remember our ache, so when we see it in others we do not shut our eyes to their pain.

What 2 years of grieving have looked, sounded and felt like. Grieving is hard work, ya’ll.

The dying participate in their own death, and by supporting them while they do it, we participate too – their end weaving into our middle.

October 15 is Vanessa’s birthday; she would be 34 today. We’re doing random acts of kindness in her honor.

A letter to Vanessa, one year since she died. We’ve had 365 days of life with V missing from it, and 365 days of us missing her.

I saw Big Hero 6 recently and it took me by surprise. I didn’t expect to be so moved by its treatment of grief, loss and care-giving. It’s lovely.

On what would be our sister’s 33rd birthday, her loss hits us hard. We channel her inpatient kindness to find our way through.

Something I hadn’t fully considered was that without my sister, the dynamic of every other relationship I had would be changed, too.

It is in the knowledge of the finite-ness of life that we can really understand the privilege and wonder of being alive, now, this moment.

I have found, in these days that bustle with life but still feel silent, that I don’t know yet who I am without V reflecting back to me her view of myself.

I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to title this post “The End” or “The Beginning” – so I went with “The Middle” and that ended up feeling just right.

In 2006 I gave my sister Vanessa a little song called “Pictures” for her wedding. With V likely bedridden now, I’m a bit taken aback by its prescience.

Vanessa is sitting on my couch, and is constantly in my memories, and is sometimes in my tears, but I’m missing her soul in this year’s Christmas time.

Living and loving impatiently sincere, as my dying sister has shown me how to do her whole life – My last act starts now. When will you live yours?

That one time they found out my husband had a large heart aneurysm and he needed emergency open heart surgery, pronto – and it was the best day ever.

We have the strength to carry others only because we are carried ourselves.

A head-over-heels love letter to, well, everyone.

Heartbreak has taught me that there is strength in taking our private sorrows to the mountaintop. We are all making it up as we go; our stories are gifts.

You, me, everyone… we’re ALL doing hard things. Kindness is imperative.

The Live Sincerely Pledge now has pledges from all 50 states, and over 45 different countries. Have you taken the pledge yet? Join us today!

Reflecting on all the seasons -of weather, of emotions, of relationships, of a life- in order to purposefully mark their changes & seize the new beginnings.

Sometimes, what is happening hits like a tidal wave of sadness. But mostly, it’s a constant bombardment of small things. Grief changes but is ever present.

The ugly and the beautiful, for each of us, sit side-by-side. Neither is lost in, or removed by, the other- a truthful portrait of the duality that is life.