

September 12: always a part of me
September 12 is a date that never fails to affect me. It was at 3 am on a September 12th that I was visited by police officers telling me my son was dead. Not long after, I arrived on the west coast, close to the very place pictured here, to collect and bring Matt home with me. The memory of this time is as close as if it were last year or last month . . . even last week. Actually, it was 20 years ago today. I have to admit that identifying the amount of time my son has been


Bringing Angela Home
First, a note – This nineteenth, and last story to be shared through my blog, finishes the set of narratives that will soon appear as part of my new book, Finding Grace: journeys of grief, courage and healing. Grief expects to be at the core of all these stories and, indeed, that is how each begins to unfold. The dreadful chaos of grief, represented through anger, despair, guilt and deep pain abounds here. But more importantly, what is also present, displayed in the words th