Loss for words

 By Missy Enaje

Courtesy Weyuna

I already know the depths of loss, for sorrow and grief are companions at my table that is the human experience. Here, joy and hope also exist, this is the full spectrum. Yet, I find myself at a loss for words. Me, the writer. So I come to this blank page with no idea what I will type except being honest to know my limitations. 

Imagination encounters empathy

 

We can cultivate empathy in various ways. (Photo by cottonbro studio)

By Missy Enaje

At the age of 37, I know what it's like to plan, organize and orchestrate a funeral for a loved one. Without the support of my village, I wouldn't have the ability nor the strength to still be writing. But here I stand willing to talk about how imagination can cultivate empathy in different ways. Let me explain by talking about the morning when my child's funeral were to take place. Let us imagine once again.

Lessons on comparison

(Photo by Johannes Plenio)

By Missy Enaje

It seems these days that it is becoming increasingly easier to find opportunities for comparison. Open up any social media app and you'll find yourself possibly inundated by photos, videos, reels of pockets of perfection. 

The description I have read before is it's a collection of our highlight reels—moments that tend to capture mainly the best part of things, filtered through edits and time stamps that allude to feelings of FOMO, where you're missing out on life by comparison. 

Faith over fear

A few days after her birth, our hero, Isabella, had to get under the blue lights to work on her bilirubin levels with doctors and nurses in NICU. 

 By Missy Enaje

I had to do a courageous thing today. 

What mother nature teaches us

Nature begs us to trust the process.

By Missy Enaje

I started growing a memorial garden on behalf of my daughter. My sweet friend Amy and her family bought the perfect, blue solar butterfly light to complement this journey. She even gave me a bag filled with wildflower seeds. I was so excited to tend to this project and see where it lead. 

Half of our hearts are in heaven - an Easter love letter for all Edward's mamas mothering their angel babies

 

I would choose you, my daughter, day after day. I would do it all over again!

By Missy Enaje

“Death is defeated, the King is alive”

Because of His stripes, we are redeemed. What does that mean for us, the brokenhearted believers?

What we make of our suffering

 

The following excerpt comes from a fellow creative and grief linguist, John Onwuchekwa.

"Tears of sorrow and tears of joy both canalled into the corners of my mouth, and I realized they both tasted the same. In an instant, grief and hope, joy and sorrow intersected. I learned that grief and hope aren’t parallel streets that we travel down based on life’s circumstances.