This is such a heartfelt, poignant essay, and I get it. I feel intense grief every day since my aunt (who was a mother to me) passed away nine years ago. I know that all the wishing that she'd be back with me is futile. Yet, I hear her laughter and her unique ways of expression daily, and that carries me through.
You say, "I’m feeling melancholy today, because of losses and changes and how quickly daybreaks, rainbows, and sunsets pass. But then I remember there will be more." So true. It's totally OK to feel melancholy, yet such feelings come and go.
I am so glad you find comfort in churches. Sending you a big hug.
The church whose bell chimed 29 times the morning of the wreck rang its bell one morning this week, too, only it rang 30 times instead.... what a wonderful tribute to Gordon Lightfoot.
Liz,
This is such a heartfelt, poignant essay, and I get it. I feel intense grief every day since my aunt (who was a mother to me) passed away nine years ago. I know that all the wishing that she'd be back with me is futile. Yet, I hear her laughter and her unique ways of expression daily, and that carries me through.
You say, "I’m feeling melancholy today, because of losses and changes and how quickly daybreaks, rainbows, and sunsets pass. But then I remember there will be more." So true. It's totally OK to feel melancholy, yet such feelings come and go.
I am so glad you find comfort in churches. Sending you a big hug.
Thank you so much. I'm glad you can still hear your aunt's laughter.
The church whose bell chimed 29 times the morning of the wreck rang its bell one morning this week, too, only it rang 30 times instead.... what a wonderful tribute to Gordon Lightfoot.
It is, isn't it? That song is such a part of the country's musical tapestry.
Musical tapestry — great term.
Sending you a hug, Liz!
Thanks, J.C. Always appreciated!
Beautifully written, my friend! God bless you on this morning and all of the rest!
Thanks so much, Mary!