Words for the Journey

How can this be true My first born gone for 60 daysMy first love gone for 60 days The first person I knew I would love unconditionally gone for 60 days

Recently my Mom received a phone call from a long distance relative telling her to get over "it."  "It" being my Dad's death.

 When our plans, goals and dreams were replaced by fear, despair and doubt.When love was replaced by emptiness and hope exchanged for utter disbelief.When we fail to find the end, when the pain seems to be a bottomless pit.When friends turn into just somebody that we used to know.When the world turned from bright and beautiful to dark and ugly.

I lost half my heart the day he took his heart stopped. That morning brought the same anxiety felt previous days. We didn't know what the day had in store. He awoke with a slight fever his skin covered with a slight dew his breathing began to shallow becoming faint with every passing minute. 

There isn’t one thing that I could say that would ease your pain that you carry because the physical presence of your loved one who has Graduated to Heaven is no longer here.  You miss their smile, their touch, their physical presen

Letting go of my home was harder than I thought it would be.

There is a pretty well-accepted theory on grieving that the first year is the hardest. The loss is so new, the first months can be spent in a blur of shock and disbelief.

Fall is around the corner...his favorite time of year. My saddest time of year. The vivid memories of these next two months are on instant replay in my mind. Every detail of every day plays over and over. 

I'm so grateful to have learned the lesson of self acceptance and only needing my own approval...I want to do an experiment based on my hypothesis...Today is 9/9/16........@ 11:16 amLet's do this......I woke up today Fighting my wayTo deal with allThey had to say

if only I could see herthe universe would smilethe  slow demise of courage would cease

Here's what you don’t expect when suffering with the grief of losing someone you love; that suddenly the majority of the people you spend time with (family, friends, coworkers) are afraid of you.“Afraid of me?”, you wonder, because really, what is more frail or feeble, than a person in the throes of grief?