Author: Matthew Timm

Charlotte let go of the handle on her bee scooter and leaned back. Moments earlier my one-year-old niece had climbed on to her bee. The wheels on the bee are casters making it the perfect…

Compassion means to suffer with. When Elliot suffered from major depressive disorder, I lacked compassion. I either could not or would not see his suffering. I regret this. Each day I repent of this and…

From 3/3/2021 I remember the early days of grief after Elliot died. Physicality was so important. I had lost my son’s life, his heartbeat. I had lost the touch, the smell, the vibrance of life,…

From August 31, 2020 How does it feel to live with the loss of your son? 42 days until the one-year anniversary of the day my world exploded. The entry I read this morning in…

July 26, 2021 I thought it was going to be like T.V. Anne and I would go to the morgue and the white coated coroner would slide out his body for us to identity. If…

March 12, 2020 I have a hole the size of the universe inside of me and everything else seems insignificant in the light of Elliot’s absence. Anne and I took Elliot out to dinner the…

Caution to sensitive readers. This post may be emotionally unsettling. “Yes,” I said. He introduced himself. They showed me their badges. Two of them. “Can we come in?” I hesitated. Were they really police? Had someone…

On the way home from a Christmas party, I stopped at Standing Bear Lake with Anne and the kids. The party had been awful. Each of us wanted to talk about Elliot, to remember him,…

The little things make a person unique. They are what we miss the most. Elliot treated every gift like a treasure. People loved to give Elliot gifts because he let them know how grateful he…

From December 2019 Yesterday was my birthday, and it was a good day. To start the day I received many well wishes. Then, Anne took me out to lunch. Audrey made a chocolate cherry cake….