A Grief That Has No Funeral | Writing Prompt #21
How do you cope when the person you're grieving is still alive?
When I started writing my latest post, “All Come to Look for America,” I didn’t know quite what I was writing about. I knew I wanted to talk about the difference between America’s bicentennial in 1976, the year my baby brother was born, and contrast it with the semiquincentennial this year. But the piece I ended up with was both unexpected and exactly the one I needed to write.
Writing helps me make sense of the world. And in workshops I’ve taught, I’ve connected people with writing as a way to find meaning in the chaos life throws at us. That’s exactly what happened when I started writing about my middle brother, Scott. I realized we hadn’t just grown apart over time, we’d grown into people so completely foreign to each other that we just couldn’t communicate anymore.
Through writing, I realized I wasn’t angry or disappointed; not anymore. I was just… deeply sad.
And I realized that so many people are in the same place—their ideological differences with a family member or friend feel insurmountable. They’ve lost people not to death but to differences.
It feels bewildering. Lonely. Hopeless.
If you haven’t read “All Come to Look for America” yet, I hope you’ll take a moment. It’s one of the most difficult pieces I’ve written, but it also says exactly what I want it to say.
If you’re one of my delightful paid subscribers, just keep scrolling! Your invitation to join in this journey of self-discovery awaits below.
If you’d like to feed and house real human creativity, I’d love to have you along. It’s just $5 a month, and every subscription helps keep curiosity well-fed, the words flowing, and the mortgage paid.
With hope and love,
Karen
