What does it mean to enter into another season when you are a bereaved parent?

It’s a strange feeling, that of knowing you must physically do something so that you won’t perish in your sadness and yet so emotionally unmotivated you could just sit and do nothing forever.

As the grief process shamelessly forces you on, you reach a point of desperately needing to find something to do, to take your mind away from the pain, if only for a moment. But at the same time, you don’t want to not think of her for fear that you are losing her.

In the early days after your child dies, it can be quite clear to the outside world what stage of grief you are in - shock, anger, etc. But as times passes, they see us functioning again, maybe even having a laugh. Do they think we're "over it"? We learn to hide our grief behind a mask.

A unique group hosted a butterfly release for families whose children died while at their facility. What they gave me was comfort in the knowledge that I am embracing my child.

My daughter died two and a half years ago and it feels like yesterday. I am not better; I’m just getting used to feeling this way.

The sights and smells and sounds of the holidays are constant interruptions, annoyances and reminders of times past; we wish this holiday stuff would just go away.

This grieving parent doesn’t want to be asked what I'm thankful for.

I used to love this time of the year. Now it's like rubbing salt in an open wound.

What I have seen and heard and felt over these past two years reinforces my belief in the human spirit and its power.