THE HOLLOWS
" One day . . . or day one.” -- Anonymous January: Cherokee Month of the Cold Moon SEL: #3 Self-Management Digital Learner: #2 Global Collaborator A kind word to one in trouble is often like a switch in a railroad track. . .an inch between wreck and smooth sailing – Henry Ward Beecher (1813-1887) My friend’s husband suicided last week. It brought me back to the hollows. The numbness. The concept of time vanishing. Minute-to-minute watching as my life moved on without me. No more day-to-day. It is not the same as cancer or car wrecks. Suicide is unimaginatively different. We have lost parents and grandparents in their time and place, at their age. My auntie was 99, my mother 75, which could be only three birthdays from now, for me. We live through the death of our loved ones and then, we live with it. We are never the same. . . My friend found a suicide support group. I had a widows’ support group for a year before my husband...