“He is on a planet just for dogs, called Dog Planet,” my husband and I both say.
Like so many others in America, I was devastated by the shooting at Sandy Hook School that claimed the lives of 20 first graders and six educators, and resolved that day to never again be silent.
It doesn’t matter how old you are, there are moments in life when you just need your mother.
At a time in my mother’s life when she was facing one of her greatest fears—letting her child go and be in a place where she was not, she was also saying goodbye to her own mom.
As I watch my children grow up, I know that my mom’s presence in my life did not end with her death.
Hold and release. Hold the memory close; let go again and again and again.
It was the same lesson for our country. In the coming months and years, we’d use our hands to help, to hug, to rebuild, and to honor.
To my son, it is simply a game of whack-a-mole, of target practice. He does not yet know what death is.
I asked myself: what could others be feeling if they were to lose me?
But there's the other side too. There are people who will jump in after you. There are others who will grab your hand and pull.