My journey from Broken-open to More Myself

This morning I cried so. many. tears. Through the phone, my dad read me pieces of his journal from the weeks leading up to my mom’s death 2 years ago (almost to the date). He beautifully recorded things I said, things Mom said, etc. Then, I sent him photos I have of her from 6 days before she departed. What we couldn’t see or know then, for our own protection so we could stay hopeful and present, always amazes me. There are so many deeply private and indescribable pieces of being with someone as they die, and in beginning the journey into a life without them. There is no way to prepare. Those weeks broke me open beyond words and understanding. I have been forever changed and carved by the past 2+ years.