Photo by DESIGNECOLOGIST

The devastation was clear
I saw behind your mask
To the broken heart beneath
You knew how to keep going
And to do it over and over again
Yet you didn’t have a soft place to land, a hug to lean into
A soft there, there to catch your tears.

Well meaning others said kind words
But didn’t see the deeper need
I gathered you up, held you
And as your tears began to fall
I softly whispered there, there, sweet girl, there, there . . . over and over until the endless well emptied . . . for now.

By Ingrid Pires

Ingrid Pires, the only child of Norwegian-born parents, grew up in sunny California. Her rich, bicultural childhood included significant time spent in Norway's beautiful nature and healthy lifestyle, all life-affirming. She didn't set out to be an expert on grief and loss, yet grief had its own agenda when, at 31, she lost her toddler Ian to meningitis. In finding her way back to joy, Pires learned to talk comfortably about death, dying, grief, and resilience, earning a master's degree in psychology and providing grief support in several hospice settings. She likes to envision grief as an adventure, an opportunity to get to know ourselves on a deeper level and explore options for growth and for rediscovering joy. A recipient of the Isabel P. Ruiz Humanitarian Award in 2015 for the impact of her work in SLO County, she has helped thousands to negotiate devastating loss and find renewed happiness in their lives. She has recently turned a talent for writing into musings on social media and has begun writing two books: one about grief from her own perspective.