“On April 18, 1906, when that earthquake hit San Francisco and took David from her, Vivien began to speak the language of… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“This was how to help a family who has just lost their child. Wash the clothes, make soup. Don't ask them what… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“Grief made people guilty. Guilty for being five minutes late, for taking the wrong streetcar, for ignoring a couph or sleeping too… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“Grief is not linear. People kept telling me that once this happened or that passed, everything would be better. Some people gave… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
Grief doesn't have a plot. It isn't smooth. There is no beginning and middle and end. — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
Time passes and I am still not through it. Grief isn't something you get over. You live with it. You go on… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“She understood that grief is not neat and orderly; it does not follow any rules. Time does not heal it. Rather time… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
Everyone has read about or knows someone who has gone through fertility treatments. It is an emotional nightmare, fueled by false hope and the… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“Still, he loved her. She knew that. He loved her the best way he could. But she wasn't sure that was enough anymore.” — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“On April 18, 1906, when that earthquake hit San Francisco and took David from her, Vivien began to speak the language of grief. She… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
I have learned that there is more power in a good strong hug than in a thousand meaningful words. — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
Babies make you do things for them. They get you up and they get you moving. — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
I was a daughterless mother. I had nowhere to put the things a mother places on her daughter. The nail polish I used to… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
For reasons I can't remember, my family eventually stopped attending church, and I started questioning the Catholic Church's beliefs. I dabbled a little, but… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
Since my brother died in 1982, my parents and I had formed a shaky tripod of a family; now that I'd lost my father… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“Nothing can stop the words so well as the mute alphabet of knit and purl. The curl of your cupped hand scoops up long… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
I learned to knit in 2002, six months after my 5-year-old daughter, Grace, died suddenly from a virulent form of strep. I was unable… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
If watching your child die is a parent's worst nightmare, imagine having to tell your other child that his sister is dead... Although I… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
