The Grip of Grief

The Grip of Grief

by | Mar 21, 2018 | Fathers/Daughters

“For in grief nothing “stays put.” One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral? But if a spiral, am I going up or down it? How often — will it...
The Grip of Grief

On What We Take for Granted

by | Jun 19, 2017 | Fathers/Daughters

My dad never cared about Father’s Day. He didn’t buy into the whole commercial-forced-love bit because he thought buying gifts on a random day didn’t carry any true significance. He never craved gifts on his birthday either. He didn’t place...
Grief Then, Grief Now

Grief Then, Grief Now

by | Mar 21, 2017 | Fathers/Daughters

I walk across the pavement, while I watch the green hummingbird flitting its wings, moving in no discernible rhythm. The second it lands in one place, it seeks refuge elsewhere. My eyes fail to follow the hummingbird’s trek across the desert. Instead I keep...
Seven Years

Seven Years

by | Oct 4, 2016 | Blogging, Everyday life, Fathers/Daughters

This week marks seven years since I’ve written in my space, Being Rudri. I remember my first post and the swirl of emotions I felt memorializing my grief about losing my father. That year the landscape of my life felt hazy, blurred and lacked definition. In a...
The Ambivalence of Spring

The Ambivalence of Spring

by | Mar 21, 2016 | Everyday life, Fathers/Daughters, Loss

Spring arrived yesterday. The pink petals caught my attention, highlighting the sandy, desert landscape. I glanced at the unfolding, the complicated layers and how the curves turn corners, disappear and reappear in another home within each petal. The blush of the pink...
I Keep Quiet

I Keep Quiet

by | Mar 6, 2016 | Death, Fathers/Daughters, Life Lessons, Loss

The spotlight of grief crowds my pathway. I push it away. I ignore the cracking underneath my feet. The eggshells are only in my mind. No one else sees them. I am too tired to explain. This unnecessary thought, even though no one is asking. To grieve in silence masks...