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Beginner's Heart
afterwards
By
Britton Gildersleeve
After any death, there is (at least in all the cultures I’m familiar with) a ceremony. In our case, Mom’s funeral. It was definitely a family affair: my sister-in-law led the service, reading well-known & well-loved excerpts from the Bible. Mom was raised a Baptist. She would have liked this. And there was music —…
the mortality of cats
By
Britton Gildersleeve
At her best, my 14-year-old cat Kali is doing great. She can still jump (most of the time) onto my desk to eat the snack I fixed (NOT for her). She usually maneuvers the leap from the coffee table to the arm of my chair, and she can stay a couple of steps ahead of…
day #17 of National Poetry Month ~
By
Britton Gildersleeve
Poetry always helps me with grief. With rage at injustice, with loss. With all the sorrows — as well as joys — of human existence. Today’s poem is for the many victims rippling out from the horrific centre of the Boston Marathon bombings. It’s a poem by a poet who absolutely understood ugly hate, as…
friendship, funerals, & the bus people ~
By
Britton Gildersleeve
Today is my friend Carol’s memorial service. It will be held in the chapel where I was married, on the campus where Carol, her husband , and most of my family — including my husband & I — went to college. Somehow, that comforts me a bit. Because our lives didn’t really overlap much, mine…
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