It’s been 21 months since my initial bout with COVID. I’m still not 100% recovered, maybe 80%? It’s hard to recall what “normal” looked like; I sometimes remember charging forth into every day with deep wells of ambition, staying up late into the night writing or working on a project, leading meetings, spending so muchContinue reading “Cranial Nerves and the Ongoing Post-COVID Journey”
Tag Archives: grief
Lake Effect
A poem for the grieving What could be draws near: now here, now whole, now mess, now melt, now gone. Cold wind blows over warmer water, churns up moisture, curls and crops each liquid drop to crystal, ready to fall when cloud scrapes cross some highest hill and spills. Christ spent an evening splitting atomsContinue reading “Lake Effect”
Advent Day 8: Armed with Strength
It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure. Psalm 18:32 Outside the doctor’s office after we learned of our first miscarriage, our first heavy loss as a couple, Brandon held me close. Weather is unmoved by emotions; the cloudless sky shone bright and blue above, the asphalt radiating with summerContinue reading “Advent Day 8: Armed with Strength”
Advent Day 6: Do Not Be Afraid
The day of my mom’s biopsy, after hearing what the doctor thought they found, I handed over my valet ticket and filled the waiting time with Google statistics and life expectancies. I felt my face hollow out and droop. I thanked the driver, ever forgetful about the tip, and drove, sobs and a faucet ofContinue reading “Advent Day 6: Do Not Be Afraid”
Facing the Waves
Thursday we learned about my mom’s treatment options. Saturday I attended a funeral for a former colleague. Then another gun violence story in my news feed. Then another friend’s friend’s diagnosis. Then France. One time at the ocean I wanted to get beyond the breaking waves to where the water rolls, deep and even. The waves swelled andContinue reading “Facing the Waves”
Sarah Marie Wells 