Twenty of us gathered to talk about having a job that requires us to weep with those who weep.
grief
Tabitha’s community embraces her in her season after loss.
If anything had an honest answer, it would be the canyon’s cool indifference and heartbreaking beauty.
Karla F. C. Holloway offers one from Sanskrit: vilomah.
Anya Silver’s heart-wrenchingly beautiful last poems
Saint Agnostica is a chronicle of grief, love, and mystery.
In between, I was ordained a priest.
Elegies for Jacki
Poet Peter Cooley logs the year following his wife’s death with courage and brutal honesty.
Liz Tichenor’s life in the wake of her infant’s death
We are called to accompany the bodies we love from birth to death and beyond.
She died in her nurse’s arms.
“If it can’t be happy, make it beautiful.”
Lament and longing can be companions.
My years of experience as an undertaker didn’t make it easier.
I’m the only person he loved the way he loved me.
We posed this question to five writers.
The artist at the end of the world
Scott Russell Sanders’s essays balance ecological despair with the promise of human creativity.