I'd say that I have experienced as much or more grief in my life as the average person. My mother died when I was three, my grandfather when I was nine, my father when I was thirteen, my grandmother when I was 27, the aunt who raised me when I was 38, and my first husband when I was 44.
As I look toward getting older, I know that I will be attending more and more funerals. Some days I look with confidence, as one who has weathered many storms. Other days, I wonder how I can endure even one more loss.
Grief has colored my life. Sometimes gray. But sometimes, surprisingly, I find all sorts of rainbow colors in my experiences.
I'd love to discuss this, if anyone is up to it...
linda marie
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