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January 27, 2013





The beauty of humans is we can break-
and not be broken... even if we may feel otherwise! We ARE strong even when we feel we have no strength. And we can still live and love when our lives and hearts have been shattered in a million, tiny, pieces...

Hugs & prayers-
think of you often!


Peace be with you all...

Feb 2 is always the Presentation of Our Lord... don't know how the various churches decide which Sunday to talk about it; I'm sure it varies by priest.


I don't know that I could do the blessing.

I did work a funeral for a three year old today, though, and I don't know if I could do that either.

Hugs to you.


I kind of think of each of my 3 kids as having their own special part of my heart-the old soul part, the squishy lovey part, and the happy happy joy joy part. Sweet Eva has her own special part of you and I suspect you will find it to be a most precious part of all. Hugs to you, Kira.


Thank you so much for sharing this. I just lost my own baby last week. I was hesitating to comment because I didn't want to bring up even more painful memories for you or make you sad. But as I keep saying to my husband, all I want right now is to be able to appreciate the here and now again. I'm so lucky to have such a happy life to get back to when I can stop being sad. But however hard I try, I can't stop being sad yet. Thank you for a glimpse of the future when I'll be able to walk back to the here and now, too.


You probably can't tell but I am hugging you so hard right now.


The way you write about her is beautiful and loving and present. I felt your pain, as anyone who has ever lost something they love would. I am a stranger and we have never met but you will be in my prayers tonight. Thank you for sharing. That, in itself, is like a blessing.

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  • I discovered a long time ago that writing of the small things of the day, the trivial matters of the heart, the inconsequential but near things of this living, was the only kind of creative work which I could accomplish with any sincerity or grace. - E.B. White

  • I felt that I was packaging something as delicately pervasive as smoke, one box after another, in that room, where my only duty was to describe reality as it had come to me – to give the mundane its beautiful due. -John Updike
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