How, just how have I seen your beautiful name so often popping up under my own writings and never realized I had never read anything from you? But I’m here now. So pleased to finally see you. And you sent shivers down my spine — the sensation of time slipping away so helplessly, the joy that every hour and every tiny victory brings, the juxtaposition of stillness and change in the transitioning season, those first tugs as our children pull themselves a little further away from us. Feeling lost, even if from the very first day we did all we could, all we knew (and continue to do so) to make sure their wings are strong when the time comes to carry them where they wish to fly.
I just posted some favorite reads from this week and found you a little too late (this time) but I’m so glad I’m buying the book with your name and words printed in it’s pages!!
Looking forward to more and deeper ♥️ and apologies for coming so late.
I admire you and your writing so much, it's wonderful to have you here! 🧡
I keep forgetting that my prompt is going to be published in an actual book! I'm so excited for you (and me and everyone else) to read Ember and Entwined! Thank you for supporting the project. I can't wait to see it all come together!
So proud and full of admiration for you ♥️ And once again, your words (on screen especially, as they’ve been waiting for too long) are on my “want to do” list. Thank you for bearing with me and once again, keep shining and keep writing mama! I look forward to receiving my book(s) 💌
A few weeks ago my grandmother passed on just short of my son’s first birthday. She was my best friend and I was so looking forward to sharing with her this new parenting journey which has brought me great joy.
And your piece was able to breathtakingly capture so stunningly what I’ve been contemplating on myself, how I’m carrying both great grief but also great joy.
Your poem as well is just so out of this world. Thank you for articulating this with so much eloquence and tenderness 🤎
I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm glad that you were able to recognize a bit of your experience in my words, and I'm so grateful to you for sharing that with me.
This landed so strongly on my heart. My son is turning 18, in his senior year of high school, and it feels exactly the same. Echoes upon echoes of all these moments of growing up. Just like your Sybil. Your poem is perfection. I feel it all, too.
A, this whole post feels like a poem, each paragraph a new image of vivid love or vivid loss or the way the two weave inextricably together. Thank you for sharing from your heart.
YES to feeling all these things at once. "grieve and delight and rage and wonder and fear and dream and despair and hope all at once." Isn't it amazing and miraculous? Yet simple, human & ordinary at the same time.
Both your prose and your poem are beautiful, A - and so achingly relatable. The world and human life is so many things all at once, all the time. Loss and love and joy and devastation. Always so much to both rejoice and grieve. Thanks for reminding me that the multifarious is normal and that there is space for all of it, so long as I make that space inside. Wishing you comfort in the discomfort. <3
I'm sorry you're dealing with all of this - as you say, it's the work of a life time, reconciling all these different contradictory feelings, milestones and moments. Sending lots of love. xx
"I think I will spend the rest of my life reconciling how all of these things can exist together. How I can grieve and delight and rage and wonder and fear and dream and despair and hope all at once."
This, I think, is the essence of humanity. Containing multitudes, yes, but more so figuring out how to integrate those multitudes into our one self and our one life. I appreciate your reflections, as always.
How, just how have I seen your beautiful name so often popping up under my own writings and never realized I had never read anything from you? But I’m here now. So pleased to finally see you. And you sent shivers down my spine — the sensation of time slipping away so helplessly, the joy that every hour and every tiny victory brings, the juxtaposition of stillness and change in the transitioning season, those first tugs as our children pull themselves a little further away from us. Feeling lost, even if from the very first day we did all we could, all we knew (and continue to do so) to make sure their wings are strong when the time comes to carry them where they wish to fly.
I just posted some favorite reads from this week and found you a little too late (this time) but I’m so glad I’m buying the book with your name and words printed in it’s pages!!
Looking forward to more and deeper ♥️ and apologies for coming so late.
I admire you and your writing so much, it's wonderful to have you here! 🧡
I keep forgetting that my prompt is going to be published in an actual book! I'm so excited for you (and me and everyone else) to read Ember and Entwined! Thank you for supporting the project. I can't wait to see it all come together!
So proud and full of admiration for you ♥️ And once again, your words (on screen especially, as they’ve been waiting for too long) are on my “want to do” list. Thank you for bearing with me and once again, keep shining and keep writing mama! I look forward to receiving my book(s) 💌
A few weeks ago my grandmother passed on just short of my son’s first birthday. She was my best friend and I was so looking forward to sharing with her this new parenting journey which has brought me great joy.
And your piece was able to breathtakingly capture so stunningly what I’ve been contemplating on myself, how I’m carrying both great grief but also great joy.
Your poem as well is just so out of this world. Thank you for articulating this with so much eloquence and tenderness 🤎
I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm glad that you were able to recognize a bit of your experience in my words, and I'm so grateful to you for sharing that with me.
🤎🤎🤎
This landed so strongly on my heart. My son is turning 18, in his senior year of high school, and it feels exactly the same. Echoes upon echoes of all these moments of growing up. Just like your Sybil. Your poem is perfection. I feel it all, too.
It's so good to know it isn't just me. 🧡
A, this whole post feels like a poem, each paragraph a new image of vivid love or vivid loss or the way the two weave inextricably together. Thank you for sharing from your heart.
Thank you for helping it along 🧡
YES to feeling all these things at once. "grieve and delight and rage and wonder and fear and dream and despair and hope all at once." Isn't it amazing and miraculous? Yet simple, human & ordinary at the same time.
Yes!
Beautiful. And your poem - stunning. ‘…the slanting afternoon light’ 🍂 🧡
Thank you, Ange. I'm very glad to be writing a bit more again. 🧡
Both your prose and your poem are beautiful, A - and so achingly relatable. The world and human life is so many things all at once, all the time. Loss and love and joy and devastation. Always so much to both rejoice and grieve. Thanks for reminding me that the multifarious is normal and that there is space for all of it, so long as I make that space inside. Wishing you comfort in the discomfort. <3
Thank you, friend 🧡
I'm sorry you're dealing with all of this - as you say, it's the work of a life time, reconciling all these different contradictory feelings, milestones and moments. Sending lots of love. xx
Wholeheartedly received, thank you. 🧡
"I think I will spend the rest of my life reconciling how all of these things can exist together. How I can grieve and delight and rage and wonder and fear and dream and despair and hope all at once."
This, I think, is the essence of humanity. Containing multitudes, yes, but more so figuring out how to integrate those multitudes into our one self and our one life. I appreciate your reflections, as always.
Thank you. It feels like something I've recognized before but it still feels new every time I come back around to it, somehow.
I was just getting caught up on your newsletter this week. Sending you love. 🧡