Don't Waste Your One Beautiful Life.

Even Now, There Are Still Days So Beautiful, I Almost Believe In God.

Time Passes And I Am Still Not Through It. Grief Isn't Something You Get Over. You Live With It. You Go On On With It Lodged In You. Sometimes I Feel Like I Have Swallowed A Pile Of Stones. Grief Makes Me Heavy. It Makes Me Slow. Even On Days When I Laugh A Lot, Or Dance, Or Finish A Project, Or Meet A Deadline, Or Celebrate, Or Make Love, It Is There. Lodged Deep Inside Of Me.

I Have Learned That There Is More Power In A Good Strong Hug Than In A Thousand Meaningful Words.

I Learned To Knit In 2002, Six Months After My 5-year-old Daughter, Grace, Died Suddenly From A Virulent Form Of Strep. I Was Unable To Read Or Write, And Friends Suggested I Take Up Knitting; Almost Immediately I Fell Under Its Spell.

My Daughter, Grace, Was Not Killed By A Gun. She Died Suddenly At Age 5 From A Virulent Form Of Strep. As I Stood Stunned In A Church At Her Memorial, One Of The Hardest Things I Heard Someone Say Was, 'i'm Going To Go Home And Hug My Child A Little Tighter.' 'well, Good For You,' I Thought. 'i'm Going To Go Home And Scream.'