For March, April, May and June, I am truly grateful…when Daddy and I grieved Mother’s death and shared a book about One Thousand Gifts, writing to each other at the end of each chapter, passing the book back and forth. “Are you ready to bring it back?” he’d say longlngly. And so we grieved alongside Ann and learned to live the “emptier, fuller life.”
And now Daddy, too, has died, four months nearly to the day later, and I am left with this golden treasure…his words, written in his shaky 97-year-old hand, as he weeps out messages like, “Thank you, God, for 69 wonderful years with my Myrtis. Thank you that when life could no longer endure, you took away my lover’s pain and now she’s at Home with you. Eucharisteo!”
I write about this today, because I am weeping like a child over Ann’s “Surprised by Hope” blog on her site, A Holy Experience. Ann, if you are reading this, know that you are entirely right when you say, “I’ll happen to remember this forever.” Some precious gifts are written only on the heart where the memory finds its home everlasting.
By: Susan Cowley