After my dear husband passed away, I called to cancel some of his magazine subscriptions. Everyone was so sympathetic to me---people I'd never talk to again--who touched my heart with their kindness towards me. When I took my car thru a car wash (my first time) and passed through it too quickly and emerged with a dripping wet car, a kind Vietnamese gas attendant jumped in my car and we went thru it again with him showing me what to do and I emerged with a dry clean car. His sweetness touched my heart to tears. It's the unexpected kindness from everyday people that mean so much at this devastating time.
This brought tears to my eyes and I can't believe a video about a house would make me really cry. This is so beautiful. And the tree house, too. Grief is something I think I was born with. My father died when I was still in my mother's womb, and I moved through life feeling that immense absence, and the pain of only ever hearing secondhand stories about him. I saw pictures of his burial and the emptiness in my mother's eyes, and I was there in her tummy, maybe crying too. You asked what small act of kindness have we offered, and just this month the newsletter I published was for my mother. I wanted her to read it; I never got that chance with my father. I have been reminded by good people that wearing my heart on my sleeve suits me best and I'm grateful because it made me not hesitate despite feeling shy and worried of oversharing or not giving it enough justice for the kind of mother she is to me. We shared a little soft moment together afterwards. You asked if we experienced being touched by something that really meant a lot, and today, this letter is just it. Thank you, thank you. I'm so happy to meet you here.
The whole thing was poetry. Congratulations, Sue. xo
After my dear husband passed away, I called to cancel some of his magazine subscriptions. Everyone was so sympathetic to me---people I'd never talk to again--who touched my heart with their kindness towards me. When I took my car thru a car wash (my first time) and passed through it too quickly and emerged with a dripping wet car, a kind Vietnamese gas attendant jumped in my car and we went thru it again with him showing me what to do and I emerged with a dry clean car. His sweetness touched my heart to tears. It's the unexpected kindness from everyday people that mean so much at this devastating time.
The video was excellent! It was great to learn more about your story (and hear what you sound like!). The house is quite something.
What a wonderful experience! Thanks for sharing.
This brought tears to my eyes and I can't believe a video about a house would make me really cry. This is so beautiful. And the tree house, too. Grief is something I think I was born with. My father died when I was still in my mother's womb, and I moved through life feeling that immense absence, and the pain of only ever hearing secondhand stories about him. I saw pictures of his burial and the emptiness in my mother's eyes, and I was there in her tummy, maybe crying too. You asked what small act of kindness have we offered, and just this month the newsletter I published was for my mother. I wanted her to read it; I never got that chance with my father. I have been reminded by good people that wearing my heart on my sleeve suits me best and I'm grateful because it made me not hesitate despite feeling shy and worried of oversharing or not giving it enough justice for the kind of mother she is to me. We shared a little soft moment together afterwards. You asked if we experienced being touched by something that really meant a lot, and today, this letter is just it. Thank you, thank you. I'm so happy to meet you here.