I Grieve For Eve, The Mother Of Us All.
By Abby Pingree
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Abby Pingree
My Teenage Daughter, the Merciless Mirror.
Perhaps she is something unimaginable; something timeless. Born of love so pure she will be my merciless mirror so I can see what needs cleaning, what needs washing.
The Beauty in Brutal Breakdowns.
As a hospice nurse, I have the rare privilege of sharing in the exquisite and brutal breakdown that is death and the dying process.
My Body is Softer Now and so is My Heart.
She seemed to know something I did not: how to truly enjoy life. I knew how to manipulate life, constantly struggling, trying to force life to fit my idea of happiness. I was deeply unconscious.
A Wandering Soul’s Plea: May I Come Home?
No longer blind to the illusions of hope, she is left threadbare and worn.