tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239101064474317957.post9085559857289283951..comments2023-10-06T03:59:46.608-07:00Comments on Not A Virgin, But Occasionally A Martyr: Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17350861069153040567noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239101064474317957.post-69652980026002171592012-05-05T10:28:41.955-07:002012-05-05T10:28:41.955-07:00May 1st was the fifth anniversary of my friend Ter...May 1st was the fifth anniversary of my friend Teri's death. I won't lie and say the grief of a young woman leaving behind children ever truly wanes, but I still feel close to her and believe I have honored her in the ways my life has improved.<br /><br />Regular reminders of the power of a mother's love (and the power of her ire) can help strengthen our resolve to be fair and kind, can help us work more diligently to build a strong foundation, in case we're not there (to nag them) when we are old and gray.Dehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06402697423507846690noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239101064474317957.post-85633213390461475702012-05-04T20:42:23.035-07:002012-05-04T20:42:23.035-07:00Last bit = gut punch.
Ugh.Last bit = gut punch.<br />Ugh.Pamelahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13652737346135197054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239101064474317957.post-78952168026644403672012-05-04T08:55:37.092-07:002012-05-04T08:55:37.092-07:00So good to find you back here.
I am sad with you, ...So good to find you back here.<br />I am sad with you, while sure that Tara is with you always. Loved ones never leave us. At least this is my intention when I die. Never to leave those I love.<br />Blessings Kelly.claire bangasserhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12380558962103134334noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239101064474317957.post-80186406500423467002012-05-03T19:04:31.707-07:002012-05-03T19:04:31.707-07:00I may have told you this before, and if I'm re...I may have told you this before, and if I'm repeating, I'm sorry, but this dream has just Stayed With Me.<br />My mother came to me in a dream, smiling as she always did when she saw me, and said, "Do you want to see what it's like?" and I knew she meant "when you're dead."<br />And we kind of flew in a bubble together (almost Glinda-like but faster) and could see people we loved among the living. What I remember most was watching my teenaged nephews being typical mouthy too-clever-by-half teenaged boys. But instead of irritation by and embarrassment for them, all I felt was love. Just love, love, love, pouring out of me. As I watched one of them close a door to something he wanted (by being snarky to someone he didn't know was on a committee for a scholarship he wanted), I could actually see what pitfalls he was avoiding by ending up at another college. It was truly, truly amazing, watching them, watching the futures shift and change, watching the care with which the Powers of the Universe were at work. But what I remember most? Is the love. And how I was just bursting with joy for loving them. I couldn't work up a single negative emotion.<br />I try to carry that in to my days but I am weak and still in my mortal coil. But I truly hope someday to be able to live that dream.Ooniehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15162162953846737959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239101064474317957.post-43480152406280421342012-05-03T17:42:34.131-07:002012-05-03T17:42:34.131-07:00There are so few words to offer, but lots of heart...There are so few words to offer, but lots of heart. Children, how they know things, how they know, and yet not.<br /><br />Peace to you, consolation.Franhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07181529277715646835noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239101064474317957.post-55276547811125784362012-05-03T15:04:11.341-07:002012-05-03T15:04:11.341-07:00Beautifully, brutally direct, those small people a...Beautifully, brutally direct, those small people are.<br /><br />Sending love.RuthWellshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00022925821891020061noreply@blogger.com