Grief isn’t done with me yet. Not sure it ever will be. Especially if I don’t learn to be still a little more often.

For some people, the Christmas season is their most difficult grieving season of the year.

Not me. With the passing of Noah's birthday on February 26, I have been descending pell-mell down the slope of anniversaries that bring up bittersweet memories of Levi.

Apparently, getting puppies is how I deal.

How we celebrated Levi's birthday, and the saga of the passing of the Caravan.

In celebration of Levi's adoption day...

I know that sunflowers think their job is to propagate their species by creating seeds. But today? It was to teach me that even when we've been hammered by life, and everything seems wretched, and we are broken all over the ground, we can still be beautiful.

"It's your road, and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you." - Rumi

"Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life." - Anne Roiphe

Every day is another step forward. Every day, grief morphs and whirls and changes into a different shape, like dancing aurora borealis. And lately, I have been surprised by joy.

In a way, every day, every moment sine June 3, 2015 has been a "first" in this first year since I went from being merely a parent of four boys or an adoptive parent to a bereaved parent. Every day, there are things that trigger my tears. Some of them are quite small and seemingly insignificant--but even something that might seem small to others can leave my heart weighed down by stones too heavy to lift for most of the day.

Knitting is a lot of things. And as much as I love it, to me, knitting is more than just a craft--knitting for someone IS love.

Ups and downs and throwback photos. My weekly tally.

"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a man, it's too dark to read." - Groucho Marx
 Our "currently reading" list.

There is no "one-time thing" when it comes to grief.