a family i know just lost their father.
he was also a husband, a son, & a brother. it was not unexpected but in the moment of loss, seems sudden and harsh. we neighbors and friends do the small things so they can do the larger things and begin to heal this wound. we can offer few words really, but we can be good listeners.
it is in this spirit of healing, of listening, and being of service that we continue on ourselves in our daily lives where everything seems so much smaller and unimportant… but simply continuing remains important.
i took this photograph last week while at the beach- it has special meaning to me and now i post it here for them…
for now, we’ll be here, listening and story-sharing.
Shibori Girl 
and simply going.
LikeLike
what else is there?
LikeLike
Sometimes it’s the smallest things that can pull you along the path of grief and mourning. I lost my husband of 25 years three months ago. He too was also a father, brother and son. I step step step because so many gentle and loving people are helping and have continued to help me.
Also, if you meet the widow in the grocery store and she is staring, staring, staring at the red cans of coffee because it’s the first time she’s had to buy some since he died and he was the main coffee drinker and buyer of the household do not stop and ask her how she’s doing unless you are prepared to hear, really hear her answer. When tears fall out of her eyes don’t you dare run away. You asked so you must stay while she cries a wee bit and then you can laugh together about something. To do otherwise is rude.
LikeLike
Yes, we cried again last night on the front lawn under a clear sky studded with bright Christmas eve stars. A first Christmas for her without him. And a first of many firsts, for both of you. If I meet you in the grocery store looking over the coffe, I will stop for a moment and be here now.
LikeLike