GRIEF Archives - Page 7 of 8 - Ellen Morris Prewitt

Don’t Tell Me about Your Assault Rifle

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 15, 2016. Posted in General, GRIEF. 8 Comments

I no more want to know you like assault weapons than I want to know what kinky things you do with a porn magazine in your hand. You see, if you’ve moved past guns for self-protection into defending your right to own war weaponry, that’s a fetish. And—I’m not trying to be rude—I simply don’t need to know that about you. Yes,...

Targeting LGBT Discrimination in the South

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on April 8, 2016. Posted in GRIEF, Racism to Reconciliation. 2 Comments

I went to junior high and high school in Charlotte, North Carolina. Charlotte was the home I returned to in college and law school. When my daddy died, I sang over his grave: “I’m a Tar Heel born, I’m a Tar Heel bred, and when I die, I’m a Tar Heel dead.” The North Carolina legislature recently passed a new law authorizing...

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on April 2, 2016. Posted in GRIEF. 2 Comments

I very much appreciate EAP:The Magazine publishing my essay “Grief: What’s the Best I Can Do?” I really like this magazine. Full of good writers, talking about interesting, important stuff. Mosey around and peruse some of the content when you click through to read my essay. 🙂 Grief: What’s the Best I Can Do?

Living with the Iffing

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on February 10, 2016. Posted in General, GOD, GRIEF, Writing. 10 Comments

For one reason then another, I’ve been off the blog for a while, not adding posts, not reading posts from my fellow and sister bloggers. I’ve missed being here, and I’ve missed reading your thoughts. I hope as the year unfolds, I will do better. I have, however, been writing, and I share with you this wisdom the Universe sent...

Publishing News: Grief, The Bone Trench, and 21st Century Obits

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on January 6, 2016. Posted in GRIEF, Writing. 12 Comments

I’m pleased to report that the essay Grief: The Best I Can Do will be published in Exterminating Angel Press: The Magazine. EAP is an amazing magazine whose ethic is spreading ideas, not exclusivity. So the “already published” nature of the essay is not an issue. In fact, the magazine encourages writers to get their work out...

Grief: The Best I Can Do

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on December 26, 2015. Posted in GRIEF, LOVE, Writing. 32 Comments

My Daddy Joe was killed by a train when I was three years old. My older sister was four, and my mother was newly pregnant with my little sister. After the baby was born, my mother had what we would now call postpartum depression, complicated, of course, by the death. She thought to herself, Well, I’ve had this baby. The two older girls can take...

A Southern Woman’s Vocational Credo

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on October 23, 2015. Posted in GOD, GRIEF, HOMELESSNESS, LOVE, Writing. 10 Comments

I come to Deborah Koehn Loyd’s Your Vocational Credo: Practical Steps to Discover Your Unique Purpose (IVP Books, 2015) as a Southern female raised in the 1960s and 70s. The adjectives this statement evokes for me are “stricture,” “judgement,” “demanding.” Peering down the tunnel of time, I see a long line of women staring back at me, frowning....

Just Rain

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 9, 2015. Posted in GOD, GRIEF, LOVE. 10 Comments

When we were interring Daddy in the Old Chapel Hill Cemetery (x marks the spot, a shovel, and an urn), rain fell. We held umbrellas, but we were moving, digging and tossing dirt. The August rain dripped slow and steady—not warm, not cool, just rain—and even as it was happening, I knew I’d never act afraid of the rain again. No running to...

Here’s the Kicker

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on May 27, 2015. Posted in GRIEF. 12 Comments

A daughter orphaned from her dad at age three, I wrapped myself in all things Daddy Joe. Because he moved to the Rockies, I loved the snow, demanded a Frosty the Snowman cake every December birthday, cherished my red sled—in Mississippi, where it snowed once every seven years. I folded and unfolded the postcard he sent me of a Palomino until...

Walking Toward the River

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on February 20, 2015. Posted in GRIEF, Writing. 12 Comments

Every morning and every afternoon I walk toward the river. The river flows past the oversized window at the end of our hallway. Sometimes when I walk, a behometh ship passes, rusty hull slicing the air. At other times it’s the train passing, the cars laden with graffiti. On the rarest of occasions, the train runs in front of a ship and...