Oh Emily. I lost my dad to cancer eight years ago and know well the strange awful grief of living in a world that they’re supposed to still be in. How the simplest thing can throw the fact that they’re not back in your face.
‘The phrase “Emily’s book,” repeated more times than “amen” on a Sunday.’ - Your mom is so proud of you and she surely knew how much you loved her!
What a remarkable moment in a cherished evening. Thank you for making this space. I'm not sure I really felt what that phrase meant until that woman spoke.
People die; love doesn't.
And that's the worst part of it.
Because "love" is an action verb.
How do you love someone who isn't here any more?
I don't have the answer. Hell, I don't even have AN answer.
Except this - People die; love doesn't.
Absolutely. Always holding onto the love that will never die. <3
🤍
Oh my gosh! So heart-felt. I am sorry for your loss - your mom loves you and will always have your back!
Thank you, Vickie. ♡
Tears are running down my face. This is so beautiful and spoke directly to my heart. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for such a heart-charged note, Wendy. I appreciate it so much. <3
Oh Emily. I lost my dad to cancer eight years ago and know well the strange awful grief of living in a world that they’re supposed to still be in. How the simplest thing can throw the fact that they’re not back in your face.
‘The phrase “Emily’s book,” repeated more times than “amen” on a Sunday.’ - Your mom is so proud of you and she surely knew how much you loved her!
Awe, Emily! This heartfelt writing of yours had waterfalls of tears cascading down my face!
Your sweet and spunky mom lives on through your words and memories, much love to you both!
What a remarkable moment in a cherished evening. Thank you for making this space. I'm not sure I really felt what that phrase meant until that woman spoke.
The empty seat got me. Such beautiful writing Emily....