The Perfect Day

by Scott West Once in a while, we as coaches get to share our own experiences with ADP. I’m fortunate enough to be here today and talk about what ADP […]

Got Grief? It’s that holiday time of year.

For years after my father died my mom carried on at the holidays as if nothing had changed. Her intentions were good — to keep things the same and not bring any sadness into the room.  But things weren’t the same, there was a person missing. My dad.  The person who sawed off the bottom of the tree to fit into the tree stand.  And who wired the tree with lights and watched as we all decorated it with the familiar ornaments and sipped hot chocolate.  Except now I was the one trying to saw off the bottom of the tree and get the lights on just so the way my mom liked. His missing presence lodged itself like a lump in my throat and sometimes it was all I could do not to cry.  Not to cry.

Grief AND Gratitude: Living in the “AND” During the Holidays

Recently I asked a friend how he dealt with the death of his mother right before he went away to college. Without skipping a beat, he said, “I learned how to live in the “AND”. I am sure I looked confused, so he explained, “I was really sad about my dad AND I wanted to enjoy college, so I continued to missed my dad AND I had fun.”

Around the Holiday Table: Talking about Someone Who Died

My mother died on October 23, 2008.  A month later I spent that first Thanksgiving without her at my godmother Ginny’s house with her family. I had known Ginny my whole life and her three daughters, all around my age, were like cousins to me. They were all there too, one of them with her own three daughters.

Grief in the Time of COVID-19

Susan Angel Miller is the author of the memoir Permission to Thrive. She lives in Milwaukee with her husband Ron; they are the proud parents of Sara, Rachel, and their forever-beloved Laura. Here she shares some hard-earned grief and loss insights that apply in both ordinary and extraordinary times.

Was I Really Brought Up in a Single-Parent Home?

Recently, my cousin asked me, with sincerity and care, “What was it like to be raised in a single-parent home?” I must admit the question took me a bit by surprise, and despite being a mature adult, I had to reassess my sense of family.

Goodbye to the Albatross

My grandfather died when I was 2 years old. I never met him. The only things I have of his are two pictures – which are actually my mother’s – 2 black and white pictures. The first is of a tall, lanky man, dressed smartly – if not oddly formal – standing in the middle of a yard with the hot Caribbean sun beating down on him; the second, a close-up portrait. That was it. All imagined interactions, hoped-for futures, dreamed of backstories, stemmed from these 2 pictures.