CW: suicide loss, grief For a long time after my dad died, I was a detective. I replayed conversations. I analyzed text messages. I interrogated my own memories like a witness who couldn't keep her story straight. What did he say that Tuesday? Did his voice sound different? Was that comment a clue I missed? I wasn't just grieving. I was investigating. I thought if I could just figure out why, something would click into place. The chaos would organize itself into a narrative t

It was around this time last year when I lost a close friend. The pain of that loss is still pretty fresh, a wound that hasn't fully...

May we open our eyes to the struggles of our neighbors, And see beyond the veil of our own comfort. Let us recognize that freedom is not...