Joy In The Mourning
A wail escapes that echos off the tile. This is my new normal.
These days I’m ok with the damp eyes, the slow roll of tears down my face, finding myself sobbing, a snotty heap laying in the middle of a cold, damp floor. My wails no longer startle my dogs or my family.
Weeping may come for the night friend but joy does comes in the mourning.
Sprinkles of Tiny Miracles
We headed into the new year like most, with great anticipation of new beginnings, do overs, start overs. 2021 unfolded with a bang and then the wave threw us back into the desert of loss and heartache.
We had walked through this desert frequently over the past ten years. We knew the heat would feel intense and life would feel parched for a while. Then, all of a sudden…