a daily companion for the year you weren't supposed to have
"What did you almost call him about today? Write it down here. He wouldn't have answered, but you almost did anyway, and that's worth knowing."
A page for each day you come to it — undated, so you start the day you start. Gentle, open-ended prompts that meet you where you are. Space to write a sentence, or a page, or nothing at all.
Six monthly sections that follow the real shape of the first year — shock, the world expecting something you can't give, untrusted good days, returning routines, identity, looking ahead. Ordinary Wednesdays given as much room as the days that hurt.
Built to sit on your nightstand. Quiet enough to ignore. Patient enough to wait.
A companion, not a clinician. It doesn't diagnose or fix.
Open to any faith, or none. The prompts ask, they don't preach.
The year you're living, not a map. There's no schedule for grief.
Take it one ordinary day at a time.
Read on Amazon →Not ready yet?
A free email companion across one week — a taste of the voice the book carries, written to the people who aren't ready to journal yet, or who would rather be written to than write back. Then quiet. No firehose, no upsells.
Reply to any letter and it reaches a real person — me. Unsubscribe anytime; the link is in every email.
Thank you for writing in.
The first letter should land in your inbox within a few minutes. If it doesn't, check your spam folder and mark it "not spam" so the rest find their way to you. The next six arrive once a day for the following week, then they stop.
— Margaret