However we label it, death is inevitable—promised from the moment we are born. But when it comes close, when it touches our own circle, we pause. We reflect. And often, we wonder: What do I say? How do I show up for the dying?
I started using the readings as springboards for stories and poems, and for the persistent main character of my current novel in progress.
The greeting—How are you doing?—is common. This question is expected. Compulsory in some situations. And polite. Or is it? Is it even real?
With a breath, a deep leap of faith, I took a writing plunge with a handful of friends.
A gospel sermon about holding out hope stirred memories of safe spaces and the power of being seen. From childhood sanctuaries to high-school mentors, this reflection explores the quiet encouragement that stays with us—and what it means to offer that same sanctuary to others.
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