Rob and I grew up in church traditions that loved hymn singing, and we gravitated toward churches like that as a married couple. On Sunday mornings now, when I’m missing Rob’s arm around me in the pew, the hymns remind me that he’s near. “Yet she on earth hath union with the God the ThreeContinue reading ““Mystic Sweet Communion””
Author Archives: Clarissa Moll
Time to Start Growing
When we met, I wore my hair like 90s Winona Ryder. A pixie cut, dyed dark. My high school math teacher had told me years before that “men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses,” and his adage had proven true for short hairstyles as well. I hadn’t dated at all in high schoolContinue reading “Time to Start Growing”
Tilting Toward the Sun
The kids and I traveled to the far northern edge of New Hampshire’s White Mountains for the Christmas holiday, a trip that coincided with the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. On a day that was -1 degrees Fahrenheit, the coming of the solstice brought little comfort. We may enjoy more daylight fromContinue reading “Tilting Toward the Sun”
You Love Me Best
I remember driving through an Ohio cornfield with Rob soon after we’d met back in 2001. An old white farmhouse with a broad front porch rested atop a hill in the distance, its red barn sagging on the lawn behind. “When I’m old, I want a front porch like that,” Rob told me, “with twoContinue reading “You Love Me Best”
Our Steps Are Ordered
I don’t have adequate words to describe what it has been like to lose my husband. It is to find the fabric of my life torn in two. Not just a single moment of being rent asunder by death, it is the daily unraveling of the beautiful life we wove together over 17 years. EachContinue reading “Our Steps Are Ordered”
Grief in the Desert
Since Rob died, the place I’ve most wanted to visit was the desert. We traveled more than 30,000 miles together road tripping in our camper, and the desert was one of our favorite places to camp. Whenever I feel overwhelmed with my new life, I long to be sitting in this spot again. I loveContinue reading “Grief in the Desert”
“I’m Headed Home”
Saturdays used to be for hiking. Even in the winter, Rob would long for the mountains. When it was too cold for the kids and me to join him, he’d head out alone. If you ask my children what their dad loved most, they’ll tell you “hiking and his family.” Hiking offered Rob precious timeContinue reading ““I’m Headed Home””
Sheltered by Love
I’ve been looking for something to help me visualize my new role parenting alone, and I fell in love with this little carved elephant family statue at Ten Thousand Villages. I thought it was one mama elephant sheltering four smaller ones until I got it home. It was an impulse buy; I’ll admit I didn’tContinue reading “Sheltered by Love”
Homeschooling Through Loss
Our family homeschooled for seven years before Rob died, and we joyfully watched our children grow into intellectually curious students and voracious readers. More than that, our family became its own little tribe, deeply committed to each other. Homeschooling became even more precious the last three years of Rob’s life when he transitioned to workingContinue reading “Homeschooling Through Loss”
May You Find a Light
“Lost and weary traveler searching for the way to go … May you find a light to guide you home.” The Brilliance Of the many times I have felt lost in my life, none has ever been so all-encompassing, deep, and dark as grief. Sometimes I miss Rob so much that I don’t think I’llContinue reading “May You Find a Light”