For almost two weeks, I sat staring at a blank screen. I knew a story was waiting to be written, but the words refused to come. One morning, while out for a walk, the fog lifted. As my feet found their rhythm, so did my thoughts. I realized I wanted to write about Father's Day, June 21, the day we chose to celebrate what would have been Kevin's 40th birthday. Looking back, I understand why it took so long. Some stories are not written by determination alone; they wait until t

For the past couple of weeks, I have felt the weight of anticipatory grief. Birthdays, especially milestones, have a way of stirring memories that seem tucked away on ordinary days. Suddenly, memories flood in, catching me off guard. A photograph, a song, or a fleeting thought transports me, making grief feel immediate and real. Sharing this helps others see how grief ebbs and flows, keeping the focus on personal experience. One minute, I was smiling as I looked at some of th

Kevin at a show, 2018 In Honor of Mental Health Awareness Month Mental illness is not something you can plan for. It doesn't offer warnings or wait for the "right" moment to arrive. It simply becomes part of your life, sometimes gradually, other times suddenly. I have learned this not from a textbook or a research study, but by loving my son Kevin and walking beside him through a twelve-year battle with clinical depression. When Kevin attempted suicide in 2008 and was diagnos