Every year, on the 2nd Sunday in December, bereaved families around the world light candles in their own homes or with others for one hour, 7-8 P.M., in honor and memory of all children who have died. This poem explains why … Continue reading
About Genesse Gentry
Genesse Gentry is the author of two books of poetry, Stars in the Deepest Night – After the Death of a Child and Catching the Light – Coming Back to Life after the Death of a Child. She lives in northern California with her husband Bill. They are the parents of daughters Megan and Lori, who died in a car accident in 1991 at the age of 21.
Following Lori’s death, Genesse and Bill joined the Marin County, California Chapter of The Compassionate Friends (TCF). Genesse has continued being involved in that organization ever since. She has been meeting group facilitator for both the Marin County and San Francisco meetings as well as chapter leader. She is currently on the steering committee of TCF Marin, as well as Regional Coordinator for Northern California. She presents writing workshops at national conferences of The Compassionate Friends as well as for northern California chapters.
She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org or through her website, http://www.afterthedeathofachild.com/
Genesse appeared on the radio show “Healing the Grieving Heart” with Dr. Gloria & Dr. Heidi Horsley to discuss “Compassionate Friends: Finding Hope Through Service.” To hear Genesse being interviewed on this show, click on the following link:
Books by Genesse Gentry
Posts by Genesse Gentry
After the death of our daughter Lori, I was completely devastated. Everything I believed about life was tossed out the window and I was filled with despair. It felt as if grief would destroy me. Much of that time is … Continue reading →
When did sadness stop covering everything? I don’t know. It must have first been for moments, then maybe hours, days eventually. Then for a long time no longer ever-present, but just below the surface waiting for a thought to trigger … Continue reading →
The thought of being thankful fills my heart with dread. They’ll all be feigning gladness, not a word about her said. These heavy shrouds of blackness enveloping my soul, pervasive, throat-catching, writhe in me, and coil. I must, I must … Continue reading →
It’s spring once again. Our part of the world is turning back towards the sun; trees are leafing out; wildflowers are blooming. Robins are again singing to one another. And, I believe, also singing to those who are grieving. Before … Continue reading →
Some of the nicest and most interesting people I know were born in February. So when she came on Groundhog Day I thought, Wow! How great is that! After her death, the huge shadow of sorrow that came with Punxsutawney … Continue reading →
Your birth brought me star shine, the moon and the sun; my wishes, dreams, gathered round my little one. My life became sacred, full of promise and light wrapped up in the child who brought love at first sight. The … Continue reading →