Perry Grosser
I have never written before - I had no reason to. But now it is all I want to do. I find peace and comfort in putting my thoughts and feeling into words. There are so many feelings that grief brings you, and they are were all stuck in my head for months, until I started to take them out of my head and put them into written words. I am able to tell a story, share an emotion, share a feeling, express my frustration – anything I need to or want to do. But most of all it helps me to keep moving one foot in front of the other and keep moving from one day to the other. More important though, I know my site is helping others do the same. I get daily emails and phone calls from people who are reading what I write. I receive comments from both friends, and those who I have never met. They tell me how I am able to put into words what they have stuck in their heads. How they can relate to what I am writing and how my entries help them to keep moving and to keep healing. That is what keeps me going on. I write with my son in mind all the time – although not every entry is about him, he is the motivation that keeps me writing. Sometimes I write about grief. Sometimes I write about how we see others, or how they react to “us”. Some entries are shorter, while others seem to never find an end. But every one ends with thinking of how my son would read what I wrote, and if he was old enough and mature enough to truly appreciate it. Will I write for another year, or two years, or for the rest of my life? Who knows. But for now, I have a lot to say, I have so much to cover, and so much more to heal – and hopefully help others in the process.
Articles:
Finding my Safe Spot: Going out While Grieving
Finding my Safe Spot I arrived at my annual software conference around 8am, the time the doors were scheduled to be open. I went into the amphitheater and immediately saw that the back-row corner seat was taken – damn. That is my safe seat. I own the back corner seat no matter where I go. So I did the unthinkable – I moved the bag over to the second chair and I settled into the end chair of the fifth row. That is my safe spot, my safe place at these conferences and meetings. I have come to learn that […]
Read More
Black is the Color of Death
Black is the Color of Death I am sure you have seen them, and maybe even wear one or two – those different color silicone awareness bracelets – and they all have their own meaning. Camouflage to support the troops. Orange for Multiple Sclerosis, Lupus and Melanoma. Silver for Dyslexia. And on and on. Black, the color I focus on, is for mourning, POW/MIA, and for some reason Restless Leg Syndrome and Colitis. Matt and I were talking about the black bracelet and what it means to us, the bereaved parents of military personnel, and why black. We both agreed […]
Read More
A Father ‘Hears From’ His Deceased Son on Father’s Day
Hi Dad, I have been thinking awhile of what I would write to you on Father’s Day, what I want to tell you, as well as what you need to hear. For Father’s Day, a day that you have never embraced since the loss of your father so long ago, God has finally let me write you this letter. Of course, it is your fingers doing the typing – but by all means, these are my words and thoughts – to you. First of all, I know you miss me terribly, and I know you will never get over that […]
Read More
