Those who follow me on Facebook will see that we lost my Uncle Ken early this morning, around 1:00am. He was found to have cancer in December and was gone last night. He fought hard, but his body couldn't take it.
We have had a great many losses in the last 3 years in our family. Through each grief, there are some things that stick with me. Grief, in our family, means the newborns being nursed at mamas breast while the little ones run between our feet. The women baking and cooking in the kitchen while whispered memories are shared and family stories are passed to the next generation. It means smiles, tears, laughter, and hurt; all mingled together and simmered over low to bring out the full, spicy, and filling aroma of fresh loss.
It means hope, and newly birthed healing. It means time and fragility. And most of all, it means family.
I am working to get back to you all on a regular basis, and have some posts planned very soon, please bear with me.
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feel free to post relevant comments, even friendly debate, but note: if you post anonymously, I may not publish you - grow some ovaries and let's have a cuppa.