Strength Between the Lines

Mapping the Emotional Architecture of the Soul

A space for grief, resilience, and the art born from both.

Narrative Symbolist. Emotional cartographer.


My work lives in the space between loss and resilience—tracing grief, memory, and the quiet truths we carry.

A space for reflection, for remembrance, and for the stories we carry within, that don’t always have words.

[My Work] · [Greif’s Corner]
[My Story]

Tammy Spicer

The Velvet Narrative

A space where my story, my grief, and my becoming take shape in color, texture, and truth.

The Velvet Narrative

Grief’s Corner

Thoughts of a Bereaved Mom

Here, you’ll find a raw chronicle of survival, remembrance, and the ongoing voyage to live beyond loss.

A space born in the aftermath of loss: Grief’s Corner

Time, Dreams and Broken Stitches
A mother’s reflection on the day her world shattered, the promise that carried her forward, and the fragile rebuilding that begins again each time grief breaks open.

Mom
There are moments that shatter a mother at the cellular level. This piece captures the instant I learned of my son Larry’s death — not through words, but in the devastation written across his father’s face. It is the closest I can come to describing a grief that exists beyond language, beyond breath, beyond what a human heart is built to bear.

I Saw You Today
Sometimes grief isn’t a slow ache; sometimes it’s a sudden, breathless sprint. This piece was written from the raw heat of a chase where I thought, just for the briefest moment, that the world had given Larry back to me.

Time Traveler
I travel between two worlds a hundred times a day — the life that continues forward, and the place where your laughter still rides the currents and fills my heart full.

Older posts remain here, a library shelf of stories waiting to be revisited and remembered:

  • Time Traveler
    I travel between two worlds a hundred times a day — the life that continues forward, and the place where your laughter still rides the currents and fills my heart full.
  • I Saw You Today
    Sometimes grief isn’t a slow ache; sometimes it’s a sudden, breathless sprint. This piece was written from the raw heat of a chase where I thought, just for the briefest moment, that the world had given Larry back to me.
  • Mom
    There are moments that shatter a mother at the cellular level. This piece captures the instant I learned of my son Larry’s death — not through words, but in the devastation written across his father’s face. It is the closest I can come to describing a grief that exists beyond language, beyond breath, beyond what a human heart is built to bear.
  • Time, Dreams and Broken Stitches
    Written 07/10/2016 My firstborn of two sons died nine years ago. It was the day after Easter Sunday and the month prior to his 18th birthday. Without warning and within moments our lives were unequivocally altered. We were pummeled to our knees, bloodied…
  • A Letter to the Newly Bereaved Mother
    From one grieving mother’s heart to another,I’m sending you love and so much strength…There are no rules for grieving and time becomes insignificantin so many ways now. I’m not going to lie to you.It will never be okay. It will never become easy.And…