Peace is hard to come by.
When my mind is 'at rest', I remember that he is dead.
The ache of his being gone from this world is quite different than anything I have experienced previously. Before, I could find words.
And in the midst of this, I am trying to write a book?
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'Somewhere up above the great divide
Where the sky is wide, and the clouds are few
A man can see his way clear to the light
'You have all the grace you need for today, and today is all that matters.' - Steve Austin