You can tell when someone in a room is about to cry. Not from anything they've said. Something in the breathing, a stillness that arrived a beat too early, the angle at which they're holding their face. You knew before you knew you knew. There are books about this — acting manuals, clinical guides, shelves … Continue reading Somebody Who Already Knows
Grief: The Empty Chair and the Mirror Box
Someone told me that a classmate of his died partway through the year, in middle school. What he remembers, decades later, is that no one sat in the boy's lunch chair. That's the whole memory. Not the boy — the chair. Nobody decided this. No teacher announced a mourning period, no group of twelve-year-olds voted … Continue reading Grief: The Empty Chair and the Mirror Box
cafebedouin.org 