When my husband died last summer, I was literally love bombed from the four corners of the earth. Everyone I had ever met reached out to help and comfort me. Luckily, I was able to open my heart and allow it.
I’ve written in the past that I was able to accept so much love and support because to pretend, I didn’t want or need it, was like having a baby that would not let you love it. My dear friend Debra, kept telling me, “everyone wants to help you, let them,” and I did.
Helpful hands, loving cards, notes and letters, flowers of all kinds, food, dinners, candy, cupcakes, rides and so much more flowed into my home.
When my younger daughter posted about the sudden death of her father on Instagram, my phone blew up. I was trying to call people, but with the children to comfort, and arrangements to me made, and processing my own shock and sadness, it was slow going.
I replied to so many text messages, my hands went numb and I began to panic, thinking I too was having a heart attack. I started calling and leaving messages, which people actually appreciated because they could then digest my words and gain composure before talking with me. My smart girlfriends, arranged three way calls so I could tell them both together the story of what had happened.
Then, I lost my voice. And started writing this blog. The impact of that action was unforeseen. I had no idea how many people my words of grief and sadness would help. The comfort I received from so many people who responded to my writing helped me to heal. The fact that I could help other people through my writing astonished me, I’ve had 19,517 views to my website. I can’t imagine so many people reading my work, but they do.
Ten months later those early days are a bittersweet memory. And now, the love I was given so freely and abundantly, is reversed and flowing back out again.
Love and blessings.