Women Who Eat Chocolate

I'm ready for life to begin again. Not that it ever stopped. When Dad died last Saturday morning, it seemed as if we were wrapped in a little warm cocoon. Our grief and the realization that he's whole again held us, as a family, together. Until someone you love dies, you never quite realize what goes on behind the scenes. We all took the time to be together and soak it up. Then reality hits, and there's a funeral to plan. Emotions run on high gear and you just go and go until you're ready to collapse. My daughter was able to fly home from college in Florida to be with us. In the days before, as Dad was nearing the end, I just wanted her to walk in the door so I could give her a hug. There's something about wanting everyone near. We can let our hair down, and just know, that no matter what happens during these times, that love is never far. I will miss my dad. Even though we never spent tons of time together, I knew he was always there. His seat in the f...

A passage that goes to my heart at this time .... I'm standing on the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She's an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and the sky comes down to mingle with each other. And then I hear someone at my side saying, "There, she's gone." Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side. And just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says, "There, she's gone, " there are other eyes watching her coming, and there are other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!" And that is dying. I love you, Dad.