death – Page 3 – FEMININE COLLECTIVE

You Were No Accident

May 5, 2017September 18, 2018 Esther Vincent

For all those who died before their time, and to their families. i. I don’t know you but as I rushed from the bus to the station there was an unsettling emptiness and that’s when I noticed the tape and the tent – there was so much blood. You flowed Read more

Come Back to Me Lemon

April 30, 2017September 12, 2018 Sara Ohlin

Well, this is absolutely going to ruin my love of all things lemon, I thought as I held a lemon swab in my mom’s mouth for her. This seemingly benign, care-taking piece of her cancer meds pack. Fresh, sweet lemon scented the air for a moment, but for once in Read more

LAMENT

April 7, 2017September 18, 2018 Anne Whitehouse

In memory of Renata Horowitz My darling’s photographs were reflections of her inner eye. I look at Read more

The Widow

March 16, 2017September 13, 2018 Victoria Addesso

Every early morning she leashes her old dog, walks down to and through the forest to the lake. She looks younger than her fifty-six years, although she feels older, or rather, as if she has lived far too long already. Her dog, an Aussie boy, a handsome black tri-color, walks Read more

Grief in Edinburgh

February 28, 2017May 10, 2017 Tabatha Stirling

Butterflies stopped visiting the meadow the year your light went out. Daffodils were joyless and sadness weighed down the Barn owl’s flight. The sun struggled to do it’s yellow best, the moon simmered in shock. One hundred fireworks refused to shower the night sky with color, rain was colder and Read more

A Mother’s Lessons Lead to Her Final Gift

February 19, 2017May 7, 2019 Mary Novaria

“I want to die.” It was hard to hear when my mother first said the words to me over the phone, but I understood why she felt that way. Besides robbing her of memory, that thief dementia had stolen my mom’s independence, dignity and ability to have an adult conversation. Read more

They Welcomed Her to Her Death

February 19, 2017September 14, 2018 Tricia Knoll

The word went out. No more surgeries. No more chemo. Send tributes, poems, drawings, photos, and prayers for the end of pain. Those who loved her best gathered around her bed on the mountain. Husband. Daughters. Sons. The women who would tend her for the days ahead. They told stories Read more

I Love You Daddy

February 14, 2017June 15, 2017 Adel Aaron

“He has about six quality months left.” “And then?” “Hmm . . . would you like a glass of water?” “No. What then?” “He will lose his speech and, eventually, he will be paralyzed. Would you like a tissue?” Aby blinked very fast. “Are you saying he will,” she swallowed Read more