When the CEO held a virtual town hall in 2020 and said there needed to be layoffs, I knew I would be one of the first to go because I served zero purpose at that point.
Losing her was like 'the heart being ripped out of the chest' of our entire family. Our mam played so many different roles in our lives. She was a wife, mother, sister, daughter, mother-in-law and grandmother. She was pretty cool at all of them.
We feel robbed. Nicola was handling her epilepsy, taking her medication which was reviewed periodically but she nor us knew anything about sudden unexpected death. Because of this they had become 'too complacent' about the illness and the family would have been more wary if they had been made aware of the risk of SUDEP.
When Dympna Little lost her beloved mother Lily Little to ovarian cancer in December 2024, it was her online community - she posts comedy videos as @dimplestilskin on Instagram and TikTok - who provided unexpected support and understanding of the experience of grief.
Dr. Bessel van der Kolk writes in 'The Body Keeps the Score' that trauma doesn't just live in our minds - it reshapes how our bodies respond to emotion. Sometimes, when we experience significant loss, our nervous system essentially decides that feeling is too dangerous and shuts down the whole operation.
I did not really plan to speak today. "I was not convinced I'd be able to. And I'm still not quite sure I can get through this, so please bear with me." Valentino, you were the person I spoke to, not the person I spoke about. You were beside me when words were not needed. Life was not always perfect, but it was real. One day at a time, for more than 40 years, all strung together, became extraordinary because we were living them together. This is what I'll miss about you most. I know how many people loved you, and I'm grateful for that, but what we shared was ours alone, and I will hold that carefully for the rest of my life. I don't say goodbye today, I say thank you. For choosing me, for walking with me, and for leaving me changed forever. Thank you.
The Stasi, the secret police, were legendary for their data files. Their work was based on instilling fear, and they induced stunningly amazing numbers of East Germans into informing on their neighbors. Something along the lines of 1 in 6 East Germans were informants, whether out of fear or out of approval of what the East German government was doing.
The Stasi, the secret police, were legendary for their data files. Their work was based on instilling fear, and they induced stunningly amazing numbers of East Germans into informing on their neighbors. Something along the lines of 1 in 6 East Germans were informants, whether out of fear or out of approval of what the East German government was doing.
We were both in our 60s and had no health problems that were about to kill us any time soon, but our parents had recently died, so end of life issues were on our minds. Plus everyone knows writing a will is the responsible thing to do. We'd talked to lawyers. While I considered my friend a close one, we didn't have many friends in common. I knew he had a brother and sister.
Donna Cochran had boxed up nearly every room in her Atlanta, Georgia, home - except one. The space belonged to her late daughter, Ansley, and it remained exactly as it had the day Ansley left it, with journals, jewelry and drawers filled with the cozy clothes she loved to wear. Ansley died in 2018 at 21, after a 19-year battle with neuroblastoma, a rare childhood cancer. What Cochran could not yet bring herself to dismantle was not a bedroom, but a life.
In a stack of mail on his dining room table, Jason Snape spotted a postcard from his former college professor. In clean, Helvetica type, it read: "If you're reading this I'm dead, and I really liked you." Next to the message was a selfie of Don Glickman wearing a serious expression, a hoodie and yellow aviator sunglasses. There's a hand-sketched portrait of him in the corner.
'They're dead.' In disbelief, my response was unfiltered. 'What?' Followed by the F word. A wave of emotion rushed through me. My chest tightened. My body went cold. I could not immediately find the words to offer condolences, not because I did not feel them deeply, but because inside, my many parts were experiencing a collective shock. When you live with dissociative identity disorder (DID), news like this does not land in one place. It ricochets across all parts within.
