You can argue that today is not the first day of the new millennium, you can say that the last century ends with 2000. Even so, this is the first day that we no longer write that we live in the nineteen hundreds. From one day to the next, a different era.
Today I cut my neighbor's hair and after that, she accompanied Pleasant Husband Dearest (from here on revered to as PHD) and me to New York City. We celebrated the beginning of the new year with a meal in Little Italy. The three of us shared our New York stories. PHD told us that age ago he had rented an apartment above the very restaurant we were breaking bread, toasting to the new year. All three of us talked about the things that happened to us the year before.
My book Creative Acts of Healing: after a baby dies was published by Paseo Press in July of 1999. Shortly after that, PHD and I moved from the Pacific northwest to the East coast. We combined our trip across the US with a book tour. Between Seattle, WA, and Storrs, CT, we made stops at bookstores and a church. I read, sold and signed books. Most of the people in my audience were bereaved parents, others care givers, some were people who mourned the death of a loved one, more mature than an infant.
Not long after our infant daughter was born and had died, I learned that the language of grief speaks to people of all walks of life, to every single person who has lost a loved one.