Exactly one year. It’s been one year. 52 weeks. 365 days. 525,600 minutes. I had him for a year, and now he’s been gone for a year. One. Whole. Year.
As you might surmise by my absence here the last three months, the grief journey for me has become much more introspective, much more personal, much less public, and much more thoughtful (as in full of thought). The pain and anguish that was so raw early on has healed a bit, partly because of this blog, a great therapist, and some amazing writers who penned some equally as amazing books on grief, and partly (mostly) because of Jesus, whom I see day in and day out in the words, love, kindnesses, and tears of the people I call my closest friends and family. Sooooo, to my village, I say thank you….
For loving me.
For carrying me.
For crying with me.
For laughing with (or maybe at) me.
For the past 525,600 minutes, and for the many ways you showed loved, compassion, and Jesus to me. Thank you. Thank you, Thank you