I’m no stranger to grief. I’ve lost three members of my immediate family, two younger sisters (Mary and Linda) and my mother, and I’m only in my 40s. However, even as I write this, I want my readers to understand that grief isn’t always about losing a person. Sometimes the member of the family you lose is a pet; sometimes you’re grieving a lost job or identity. I’ve even mourned losing the first teddy bear I ever received (I gave it away in a fit of weeding my possessions and have come to regret that choice.) It’s good to be gentle with yourself in acknowledging your grief, no matter what the source of it.

Lately, my life has been going so well, it feels almost like a fairy tale. I don’t necessarily remember my grief every day. But then I have a moment, like when my husband and I just hosted Rosh Hashanah at our apartment, and I think I should call Mom and tell her how great it went! Then a split second later I remember she is gone. So instead of calling her on the phone, I write in my journal. I can still address her there. And occasionally, when the flow is right—I hear the people I’ve lost write back.

The first time I was aware of this happening was when I participated in a workshop led by Marie Howe at The Writer’s Hotel conference. She talked about double negatives and had us write some double negative sentences to see how they felt, how they functioned. I wrote I will not want the man who does not want me. She said That sounds like Jane Austen! And I was overjoyed (and also motivated to improve my own love life!) Then I wrote the first draft of a poem that ended up in my chapbook How To Break Your Own Heart in that workshop. Here’s the final version of the poem: