This post is so important. I’m so glad you are practicing poetry - word magic - I believe this is how we heal and manifest change.
My brother died when I was 25. He was 28. When I turned fifty, it hit hard. This year marked more years gone than present on Earth, but I have been guided back to him. It feels so strange to say it, but I know him better now than I did when he was here. I believe Josh is near you and that he truly appreciates being memorialized in your poetic reconstruction of your experience at the construction site. Nothing is ironic, nothing is by chance, nothing is coincidental. We use words to establish the love we carry into stone towers -poetic cairns - that mark our journey’s essential plot points, the ones that inform who we are and what we are here to do.
Keep writing. You’ve prompted me to write about my big brother… something I haven’t really been able to do since right after the day we lost him. I didn’t believe what I believe now back then, but I wrote any way.
Your memory of Josh tugged at my heart. When I think of you, a picture of you and Jubilee comes to mind. So now when I think of you and Josh, I see you, Jubilee, Josh, and Bella. It is a beautiful image, and it conjures the connections you shared.
My daughter's grandma died on Nov 2nd this year. While I was her daughter-in-law, we never saw eye to eye on anything. But after my divorce from her son, we started making overtures towards reconciliation without referring to the past. Then we became two old ladies who got along well. This week, I am grieving along with her family because I lost a good friend.
Sheryl, your newsletters are like having a personal reading with you. Thank you for giving me a chance to express myself.
This hit hard. The ways you talked about grief all around and then forcing you to look for it, I’d add even though it’s always right there. Thank you for sharing your memories with Josh and his impact on you.
This post is so important. I’m so glad you are practicing poetry - word magic - I believe this is how we heal and manifest change.
My brother died when I was 25. He was 28. When I turned fifty, it hit hard. This year marked more years gone than present on Earth, but I have been guided back to him. It feels so strange to say it, but I know him better now than I did when he was here. I believe Josh is near you and that he truly appreciates being memorialized in your poetic reconstruction of your experience at the construction site. Nothing is ironic, nothing is by chance, nothing is coincidental. We use words to establish the love we carry into stone towers -poetic cairns - that mark our journey’s essential plot points, the ones that inform who we are and what we are here to do.
Keep writing. You’ve prompted me to write about my big brother… something I haven’t really been able to do since right after the day we lost him. I didn’t believe what I believe now back then, but I wrote any way.
Thank you for this beautiful reflection ❤️
Your memory of Josh tugged at my heart. When I think of you, a picture of you and Jubilee comes to mind. So now when I think of you and Josh, I see you, Jubilee, Josh, and Bella. It is a beautiful image, and it conjures the connections you shared.
My daughter's grandma died on Nov 2nd this year. While I was her daughter-in-law, we never saw eye to eye on anything. But after my divorce from her son, we started making overtures towards reconciliation without referring to the past. Then we became two old ladies who got along well. This week, I am grieving along with her family because I lost a good friend.
Sheryl, your newsletters are like having a personal reading with you. Thank you for giving me a chance to express myself.
That's such a beautiful reflection Usha and I'm sorry for your loss. I appreciate your presence here ❤️
This hit hard. The ways you talked about grief all around and then forcing you to look for it, I’d add even though it’s always right there. Thank you for sharing your memories with Josh and his impact on you.
Thank you Jen 🙏🏻❤️