mending stone sharon duerst author
Quirky Enthusiast Of Things Creative, Beautiful, And Good
My everything is you
You who shine
You who send your light afar and warm the dank and dark and dreaded
You who give and give and do not give up, but grow in your giving and have more
My everything is happiness
A nesting
A place of being
Inside, not outside myself
My everything
Is you
You who capture my attention again and again
You who continue to show all that is good
Thank you for being you
Losing anyone, any time, is hard. This year, as the losses mount for so many, I feel especially grateful for those who have been loved and those who are still here.
I’ve always had a hard time with goodbyes. And partings. Whatever I might say seems so small in comparison to what I feel.
When I was a kid, there were many losses: friends moving out of the neighborhood, relatives passing, pets meeting a sudden or surprising death. And I guess I grieved. Though mostly, I think, I just lived on. I’m resilient. Or maybe I’m in denial about how much it hurts to be left to carry on.
If only we could just keep communicating, even if not physically being together. If I could just hear from them, know they’re okay, know they’re remembering what we shared. And I guess that’s the thing I want most, to keep sharing, to keep caring, to keep mattering.
Losing anyone is hard. But right now, don’t you feel it? Don’t you feel grim weight of grief hanging over all of us? Who will be next in the line up of worry? Who will face or fall to some calamity? How will we pick up and rearrange the pieces left to us?
My mom loved Christmas and labored to make it special every year. By New Years, many times, she’d have worked herself into exhaustion and, a few times, nearly death. But her joy of giving was real: she wanted everyone to be happy. But that’s the stickler isn’t it? You can’t make others happy. But you can try!
Losing anyone is hard. And so we should try to keep in contact. We should say the things we feel to those we hold dear every chance we get. Ive felt bad about the parting words with my mom nineteen years ago, and my dad the following year. We only said I love you. And we didn’t talk of parting. Or dying. Or even living on without them. Maybe that’s what they wanted. We thought so at the time. But later, those I love yous didn’t feel like enough. But, I guess now, what really wasn’t enough was the time: it ran out. And no words could fill the voids of presence.
And now, as many of us are feeling the lack of presence with friends and family, we need to remember the spirit of love and how it lives on in us and our hearts are not separated, though our bodies are.
May love multiply in the world today, tonight, tomorrow. May goodness be magnified. May spirit hold us safe under it’s wing.
Follow the wondrous story through Mending Stone, Catching Rain, Seeding Hope, and Blossoming Dream! Most readers start reading and can’t put the books down until finished – usually 8-10 hour reads each and every minute engaging and enjoyable!
These books began as a strange dream. They travel from the Pacific Northwest, to Texas and far into Mexico and back. Your heart will be launched on an adventurous journey of heartache and questions, but you’ll find your way back in the sweetest ways!
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Happy Holidays!
mending stone sharon duerst author 