I hauled myself off to the mall today to return a couple of things before it got too busy. Then I stopped and got us some chicken biscuits for lunch. On the way home I got a birthday gift for a neighbor and also went to the library.

It is so dreary here, a cold mist on the windshield. The same mist is inside of me as I face continuous December anniversaries. Bob was born on Dec. 12, died on the 20 and was buried on the 23. Our anniversary is Dec. 28. I guess I can be forgiven for letting the holidays fly under my radar.

It has been 13 years now and I still miss his presence in my life. Rob and I keep things simple. There are memories of years with beautiful trees and bountiful gifts. Truth to tell, I am just not much for celebrating anything. Peace for me comes when I grow silent and rest within it.

I am grateful for recuperating from my illness; that’s for sure. I am grateful for readers of my blog and can still use some donations to my website. I keep asking or I wouldn’t ever get any. I am moved when one of you takes the time to actually click on the link and give a little. That way I feel that I am making a difference to a few of you.

I write raw and fresh. Themes are repeated because that is how we learn our lessons, slowly over time. Death has had a deep impact on me and the life of my soul resonates with loss. Sometimes people say I make them cry but that they needed to acknowledge some inner bare spot that ached for the solace of tears. I understand.

Tears are life-giving, believe it or not. Tears of gratitude, remorse, repentance, joy—all open doors of the soul long-closed.

I have sat with sorrow until it changed me into someone that usually tells the truth. Out of truth, goodness arises like a rainbow. I never know who will be changed by something I write, but that is a mystery I would not care to have solved. I just keep on writing.

Here is where to donate if you can.
Vicki Woodyard