Lisa Marie Basile

My happiness is what undid me, ironically. I worried so much about being OK with the happiness that I fell apart.

This is the one time of year, Scorpio Season (Oct. 23 to Nov. 22), when getting a little closer and looking a little deeper is, in some ways, inevitable.

In this column, I talk about things other people think or say, but not out loud, and certainly not in public. No one wants to say, “People either love me or hate me” because it sounds ridiculous and arrogant and icky.

Some grief is inert. Some grief is an engine. Sometimes actively participating in grief, I’ve learned, is one small way we can learn to escape its riptide.

It can really take a toll on you when you have to parent a parent.

Is there a certain quality to letter writing or diary keeping that inspires the confessional? I believe so.