Thank you, Jenny. It's a wonderful writerly gift to be able to take an everyday object and use it as an analogy for the pain you're experiencing. It might have been unintentional, but to think of it . . . a tiny washer/dryer, the water, the cleansing, and the drying of the tears.
I'm sorry about your pain, but delighted that you have such lovely friends who are available to share and help. It says a lot about *you* that they care so much.
And yes, you're allowed to have a crappy day. Take all the crappy days you need. We are all your friends.
You are only human with a big heart, trying to be the big oak tree within the family and circle of friends. You are allowed to have a fit of tears whenever the moment arrives - and we never know which trigger will set it off. In my experience it’s never about the Big Things we’re juggling 24/7, it can be a very small burr that’s been a niggling annoyance… and “thar she blows!”
You were graceful enough to sob in the privacy of your car. Me… in a restaurant (even though I was alone having breakfast, there were other diners) where I think I scared the waitress and others were wondering if they should call 911.
Funny now, but not back then. I have shared my emotional story with a lot of people since then. Strangers cannot always discern tears of grief, instead think of a bonkers case sitting in a booth. I discovered many who are emotionally ill-equipped to offer an expression of concern. That’s sad. Just keep writing!
True Christians don't cross my path very often, but there you are. You and your family give me pause in my bitterness against faith and I wish you solace with all my being!
Thank you for your vulnerability, Jenny. I cried reading this today and am so grateful to God for adjusted perspective on my own life as a result of your willingness to share your story. I am sorry you're having to walk this path, and thankful for "angels" and miracles made evident. Holding you in the Light ❤️
Oh. . . And Whitsun--I just love her curiosity and her reflections 🥰. Well done.
Thank you, Jenny. It's a wonderful writerly gift to be able to take an everyday object and use it as an analogy for the pain you're experiencing. It might have been unintentional, but to think of it . . . a tiny washer/dryer, the water, the cleansing, and the drying of the tears.
I'm sorry about your pain, but delighted that you have such lovely friends who are available to share and help. It says a lot about *you* that they care so much.
And yes, you're allowed to have a crappy day. Take all the crappy days you need. We are all your friends.
You are only human with a big heart, trying to be the big oak tree within the family and circle of friends. You are allowed to have a fit of tears whenever the moment arrives - and we never know which trigger will set it off. In my experience it’s never about the Big Things we’re juggling 24/7, it can be a very small burr that’s been a niggling annoyance… and “thar she blows!”
You were graceful enough to sob in the privacy of your car. Me… in a restaurant (even though I was alone having breakfast, there were other diners) where I think I scared the waitress and others were wondering if they should call 911.
Funny now, but not back then. I have shared my emotional story with a lot of people since then. Strangers cannot always discern tears of grief, instead think of a bonkers case sitting in a booth. I discovered many who are emotionally ill-equipped to offer an expression of concern. That’s sad. Just keep writing!
True Christians don't cross my path very often, but there you are. You and your family give me pause in my bitterness against faith and I wish you solace with all my being!
Thank you for your vulnerability, Jenny. I cried reading this today and am so grateful to God for adjusted perspective on my own life as a result of your willingness to share your story. I am sorry you're having to walk this path, and thankful for "angels" and miracles made evident. Holding you in the Light ❤️
Oh. . . And Whitsun--I just love her curiosity and her reflections 🥰. Well done.
I have to think she's a deeply theological cat, what with her formal dress and all.
🥰 well, of course she is! We can all probably learn something from her.
Thank you for this, Jenny. Grief can take unexpected forms, and that's OK.
I'm glad you got your washer-dryer. It made one small thing come right for you.
About small businesses and real people: priceless! You speak truth there.
Funny thing about time. Waiting seems to elongate it. But when one looks back, it returns to normal, like a spring.
Such a good story. We're with you.