Author: all thats worth remembering

A mother who has experienced the unimaginable. My greatest gift in my life are my sons. I could never imagine my life without them until one day I lost one. I want to honor his memory and help others who have experienced the same with my support and friendship. I have met amazing new friends through this journey that have saved me from losing my balance. "You will never see a Rainbow if you are always looking down" charlie Chaplin

The space

There are certain holes of emptiness that can never be filled. The person who when your train is suspended calls you instantly. Are you ok. Do you want me to drive to you. That person when you’ve just had an auto accident, they are the first face you see before the police arrive. That face that is holding your hand when you are about to be operated on and the face who stays all night until you are in recovery. That call who says do you need me to shovel you out mom at the first sign of bad snow. That person who is first to be excited a month before your birthday because they’ve already bought your gift. He was all of those people and my hole will never be filled.

Until the last breathe

I remember reading this 3.5 years ago and I thought I would never have read anything that summed it up like this. Here we are as time has moved further away and it still holds true. Billy took this photograph on his birthday at Sands Point and it truly is one of my favorite photos. Because in this photo I know on this day he was truly happy.

Notice

My son had it right. He stopped and noticed everything in this world. When life took him down, he walked the gardens or sat by the water and took photographs of all of the beautiful things that make you feel alive. On days that he did not feel like he was. I’m so greatful for those moments you stopped and captured what was beautiful that day. I will have them forever

Kindness

Kindness

Naomi Shihab Nye –

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.