Two years ago this September, Zoe and I attended Camp Ray of Hope for the first time. CROH is a camping weekend for grieving families and individuals. It's a safe and wonderful place to talk about your grief openly with others, and it made a huge impact on Zoe and I. Here's a little essay about our experience, published today in the Bangor Daily News.
When Steve and I were newlyweds and in our early twenties, we made the somewhat unwise decision to adopt a boisterous and socially inept pupster named Gabbie. Fast forward almost nine years and we all lived through so much together as a family and Gabbie was by my side while Steve was dying. Now, quite uncannily, Gabbie is dying from a spinal tumor. My latest essay, When Cancer Comes for Those You Love, is up on The Establishment today, and explores this complicated experience.
This past week, my latest piece was published in the Bangor Daily News. It's about good friends and the good life and about people that I am ever grateful to have in my life (and my daughter's), including one of my oldest and most favorite teachers from my coastal Maine childhood, and you can read it here.
My latest essay is up on RoleReboot today, about one of my greatest fears in raising my daughter. You can read the essay here.
I still don't understand how we can be so cruel to each other sometimes; I like to think that as we get older and wiser we participate less in the destruction and hurt of our fellow human beings (and all beings, for that matter), but it's not always the case and there is so much out of our hands. This essay looks at youth and hurt, love and forgiveness, and how it all informs the way we live our lives. Be kind. Be True. Be love.
My latest essay, On Friendship, was published yesterday by Brain, Child.
Folks, my friends are amazing. They deserve medals, feasts, endless accolades. They deserve parties, parades, and peace for the rest of their days.
They have forever supported me in my meandering and sometimes erratic ways, and though many of them were grieving too during the long illness and excruciating death of my late husband, they set aside their own grief to make sure that they took care of me. They made certain that I was supported and loved through every last minute of this journey, and continue to do so.
I am so, so fortunate.
This piece is just a small part of my way of saying thank you.
Sarah Kilch Gaffney lives and writes on a little piece of land in Maine.