Tag Archives: Grief & Healing

Frank, honest, sometimes painful look at grief and hope of healing.

Now, What are We going to Do?

Now, let’s ask ourselves the question: how can we fund and provide support for the babies and families where fathers deny/leave without responsibility?

How can we fund and support young mothers and their child who experience delivering a special needs baby, or, generational poverty or are not resourced by family or personal means? How are we to encourage adoption of infants and older American children in need of homes? How can we fund and up our support for mental and educational help for those who are raped by strangers or worse family or friends? (I know this happens…it happened to me at knife-point when I was 27 and a complete stranger broke into my house in the middle of the night. It was the knife or rape. I chose rape.)

Continue reading Now, What are We going to Do?

Today

Butterfly by Trudy Ann WyattBy God’s grace and a bunch of really good people right here, I am standing in the sunshine of gratitude.  And today can be about celebrating Trudy and the many gifts she shared with us.

Including one of her butterflies that’ll I’ll share with you.  And a poem shared with me by a friend earlier this week.

Live life, love and have fun. I am pretty sure this is what Trudy would like for me to do.  With love.  Today. Continue reading Today

“I didn’t need a thing.”

Trudy and Theresa little house 720x720I hesitate to write about this being the second anniversary of being with my sister as she prepared to leave. I hesitate to stir the waters; what emotions might come to the surface could drown me again. But I can not resist sharing a few sweet memories of Trudy – one being a phrase my husband recently recalled as one of Trudy’s signature messages on our machine.

“I didn’t need a thing”, she’d say with her soft, lilting and smiling voice. It was one of her ways of just checking in; sending over a little kite of love.

I miss Sis. But then, who wouldn’t, and doesn’t? Only those folks who didn’t get to meet her at least once.