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Articles by Peggi Johnson

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The Wariness of Grief

The Wariness of Grief I am from the South. My parents were both Southerners. I have never lived outside the South, in spite of the fact that some would claim Northern Virginia, where I lived for almost 40 years, is…

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A Remnant

A Remnant I am a wretched seamstress, although there have been numerous attempts on my part over the years to remedy that. At this point, I am fairly content with my ability to sew on a button. I can also,…

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Terms and Conditions

My son died ten years ago so I have a decade “under my belt” as a bereaved parent. In that decade, I think I’ve learned the Terms and Conditions of being a bereaved parent; those Terms and Conditions that must…

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Ordinary Days

Years ago, I read a lovely novel, The Magic of Ordinary Days , by Ann Howard Creel. Back then, I truly did appreciate the magic of ordinary days. I did. I greeted each day with purpose and a very long…

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Relationships

I treasure having friendships that have endured for many years from many different shared experiences: childhood, high school, college, work, neighbors, parenting, and so on. Some of those relationships seem strained to me now. They feel difficult and challenging and…

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Grief Has a Passport

I lost my son five years ago; I am not sure how I have endured it. One way my husband and I have tried to bear the years is to continue to do some of the things that formerly brought…

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National Conferences: Comfort Conferred  

My cherished and fiercely loved son Jordan died by suicide in April of 2009 at the age of 19. In the minutes, hours, days and weeks that followed, I struggled to figure out how to live with a heart that…

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Minivan Moments

When my children were born, I was in my late 30s, climbing a corporate ladder, and driving the one car I ever cared about. I am not a “car person.” I usually don’t care much about what I’m driving as…

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