HONOR

Advancing School Mental Health Conference! My first presentation in person since before COVID. 250ish people who wanted to hear about how to understand the impact of loss in schools! I’m always honored to have the opportunity to talk with others about grief and loss. I’m really proud of myself!

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Putting a name to a feeling, experience, a mood is essentially giving us the power to sit and do with it what we will. There is no script or perfect response when we put a name to something. There is however a sense of freedom that we may feel by acknowledging that feeling or experience.

When we are grieving an ambiguous loss, a loss that is unclear, then it can be difficult to pinpoint what it is that we’ve lost. That’s okay. Part of what we are trying to do is find how this loss sits with us and what it means to us. That’s putting a name to it. That is looking it in the eye. It may take longer than we hope. That’s okay. It may not give us the answers we are looking for. That’s okay too. Just take it one step at a time.

If you are finding yourself having a difficult time looking your loss in the eye, it’s understandable. When you’re ready, I’m hear you help if needed.

Be well,
Kate

28 years. We miss you mom. We feel your presence daily and love all the signs you send. Just today you said hi in the most creative way; having the self check out ask if I want to donate “22 cents” to balance out my total to $22. I see you.

Last night we made tuna casserole and lit a candle for you. Each of the kids said one thing they wanted you to know and it made me smile. I love you.

Special thanks to for faithfully taking flowers to my mom each birthday and anniversary for the past 20 years. You are truly the best friend a girl can have.

Be well,
Kate

Flash back to last year when the boys and I made peanut butter brownies in honor of my mom. She loved to bake and peanut butter brownies were something she always made for my cousins, my brother and me.

Tomorrow marks 28 years since I was able to lay by my mom and talk to her on this side.

28 years ago today was her last full day with us. I do this thing every year as it gets close to the anniversary of her death. I say to myself, _______ years ago she was still here. I could still talk to her, I could still go to see her in her room. I could kiss her and hug her. And I had a glimmer of hope that it will all just get better.

So 28 years ago today I could still sit with my mom. Looking back I do wish I would have spent more time with her while she was sick. And I’ve also given myself some grace in that I was so young and truthfully scared to admit that my mom might die. I remember thinking that if I wasn’t around it would make things easier. I now know that the experience was what it was and my mom understood. She was good like that.

Tomorrow we will celebrate you with tuna casserole and brownies. I will think about another year that has passed and how much I’ve grown in my grief journey. I will think of how proud you are and the pieces of you that are in my kids. I will cry. and I will think about how blessed I am to call you mom.

Be well,
Kate