{one year ago i received a phone call that forever changed my life. one year later, i am still learning how to live life without a beloved friend who was by my side for so many years,
and who continues to make me a better person because of who she was.
what i write in the following paragraphs is a reflection of the grief-walk of the past year.
it’s not what i typically write about on my blog, but it’s been part of my life every day, nearly every moment, for the past year. i am so privileged to have been one of many friendships Ruth shared with in this life.
i wrote this on the day of the one-year anniversary, but it felt too raw to publish just then. a few days and edits later, i feel ready to share it. most of us have either experienced grief of our own in various degrees or walked beside someone who has. my love to each one. ♥}
I walked out the door this morning with lipstick and my nails painted a lovely plum color.
I’ve not always been a big fan of purple nail color, but since October 20, I am.
Ruth wore it and loved it, and now? I do too.
I love anything that is a reminder of her beautiful, inspiring life.
I told my daughters that I was going to spend the day with Jesus, and talk to Him about Ruth.
“It’ll almost be like talking TO Ruth!” said Olivia, “because Ruth is WITH Jesus!”
And even though it doesn’t seem nearly the same to me, I laughed, because it does bring me SO much comfort, knowing that she IS with Jesus, not one single doubt otherwise.
Today is a huge mixture of celebrating her life, and missing her so fiercely.
The ache still hurts worse than open blisters from a new pair of shoes.
The tears still come like a sudden rainstorm in July.
The reality is that there is still so much sadness at the one-year point.
When I woke up this morning, I thought of Ruth immediately,
and of her first “birthday” in Heaven.
Do they have parties for things like that up there?
Because Ruth sure loved a good party, and I sure want her to be celebrated well.
Heaven is so lucky to have her.
One year later, this quote says it so well for me:
“People ask me, “How are you doing?”And I say, “Wonderful.”
One moment I’m sobbing uncontrollably – I carry Kleenex around in my pocket – and the next moment I’m so exhilarated with joy at all that God is doing in my life.”
[Jim Conway]
I went to the ocean today. I sat there for hours, behind oversized sunglasses to hide the tears streaming down my cheeks.
It was a perfect day to be there – a high tide, waves crashing just a few feet away from me.
But I wasn’t there to be in the sun: I was there to be with The Son.
It was just me, my Bible & journal. God was there, so present.
My husband was so kind to understand my need of being alone and quiet on this day.
It’s been a month busier than ever before, and I needed time away on this day,
to remember and reflect.
For me, there is nothing like the ocean to be reminded of how big God is,
and how sufficient He is for me, for everything I need.
There are certain dates & events that are etched upon my memory like engraved stone.
Some happy things: like my engagement, our wedding, the birth of our babies.
And some are etched in tragedy: the death of people I love.
Certain dates in October, in November, in December.
At each of those things I can still remember exactly where I was,
and the incredible shock and pain I felt upon hearing words I never wanted to ever hear.
One year later,
grief is such a long hard road.
It’s so much more than attending a funeral and crying a lot of tears.
It’s the long hard process of learning to live life without someone that was a part of me,
who was such a part of what I knew and experienced in life,
and while learning to do life without them, never forgetting them.
A friend of mine, Hannah Rose, wrote these words about the grief of losing her daughter.
They descibe so perfectly how I feel in remembering my dear friend, Ruth.
There are lots of myths about grief. But, today I want to address something in particular.
To move on from her would mean to forget her which would mean I don’t love her. That isn’t possible. To move on would mean I don’t embrace the calling God has on my life, to be her voice. To move on would mean forgetting everything God did in me because of her. …God gave me the gift of her life. A brief, yet beautifully brilliant life that has changed my own forever.
Just because I grieve “out loud” and write and speak publicly does not mean I have not stepped forward into the future God has for me. I step forward and carry her with me every step of the way.
I am not crying all day in my bed every day, lonely and depressed. No, quite the opposite.
I have a passion and purpose to embrace my LIFE and all God has for my LIFE.
Feeling the loss of her has taught me how to love more deeply than I ever did before.
I would never want to be who I was before.
I am stepping into the future, with her always in my heart.
[end quote, emphasis mine]
Walking through grief is so unique to each person.
I figured out I’m a slow griever, and change comes so hard for me.
Some are much faster, where moving on is simply a reality of life because the person isn’t coming back.
Sometimes I’ve felt like this quote:
Grieving is such a vulnerable and sensitive time.
It intensifies feelings, and the one grieving is so susceptible to being hurt, or being loved.
Walking through this year has made me realize how insensitive I’ve been in the past to those who’ve lost someone they’ve loved. Never have I intentionally hurt someone; but I see now, with much sorrow, how I’ve added hurt without even realizing or intending to.
It’s a time when so much mercy, and grace, and forgiveness must be extended:
for the one grieving, and for those walking alongside.
Because of the acute sensitivity a grieving person feels, there is potential for anger or bitterness to form, and that only makes the grief worse.
The grace and forgiveness of God must be applied as liberally as a aloe lotion on a sunburn,
covering every offense and wound.
It must be given as freely as water flowing down rivers,
covering the rugged stones so there is no danger of injury.
Grief is surely an awkward thing. There isn’t a perfect thing to say or do.
There is no handbook to grief; not for those grieving, not for those wanting to help.
There is no map or outline.
I’ve also been the one watching people grieve, knowing they are in pain,
but feeling absolutely helpless to know what to say or do to bring comfort.
Saying things can feel awkward, and not saying anything also feels awkward.
But walking through grief has also been a time when I’ve been
overwhelmed by the power of God through other people.
I’ve seen & felt grace and love extended in huge ways that are mind-blowing,
in ways that can only be explained in terms of Jesus Christ.
I’ve seen beauty in places where anyone would expect darkness and ugly.
I’ve seen & felt Jesus in people like never before.
I’ve seen them extend love and grace in ways that are superhuman ~
only because they go to Jesus in brokenness & emptiness,
and come back filled with Who He is.
I don’t know this girl at all, or even how I came across her writings, but this was written
by someone who also lost a beloved friend.
I want it to hurt when it hurts. To feel numb when it feels numb.
To feel happy when I feel happy.
And I want all of those honest emotions to drive me back into God as deep as I can go,
so He can heal the gaping wound Himself and show me how to walk through the fragments of my broken heart strewn all over the place.
The emotions change. He doesn’t. I want to dig as deep into that as I can.
I want to learn about Him in the ways you can only when He’s carrying you,
crushed and broken.
If the pain is there, why not press into it and find Him in it,
and come out whole on the other side?
After all, that’s what He did when He went to the cross on our behalf on Good Friday.
He took the horrifically painful cup that was handed to Him by the Father
and drank it to the dregs, knowing that life was waiting for Him at the bottom.
Even if that meant that Friday was excruciating,
and Saturday the world was still shrouded in death.
Sunday was on the other side,
and when He arrived, all was made whole. And it was worth it.
[end quote]
Sorrow and grief have the potential for deep cleansing of the soul.
and pressing hard to Jesus.
It can purge a heart of so much flesh, and so much earthly, temporal focus.
It can reveal how much we’ve been living for ourselves,
or how much our Life is truly Jesus Christ.
My own heart has gone so much deeper this year.
In many ways I feel so different from the person I was one year ago.
I would never wish to go through such sorrow and agony, but if it was given to me,
then I don’t want it to be lost and worthless.
And I don’t want Ruth’s life and beautiful legacy to be forgotten.
The only way to go on has been to cast myself upon Jesus.
To grab hold of him with both hands and all my strength and not let go,
in brokenness and desperation and neediness like never before.
And to stay there, holding onto Him with everything I am.
Because, truly, He alone is the souce of Life.
He can use the agony and loss to bring us to a place where we just want JESUS,
more than anything else in the world.
More than healing for my broken heart,
more than I wanted life to be happy and okay and pain-free,
more than anything I wanted circumstantially.
In grieving, we can either turn in anger from God,
because He allowed this pain, this injustice, this affliction, didn’t He?
And He could have prevented it.
Or, we can run to Him as the God of all comfort,
the One who tenderly cares,
the One who weeps over the effects of sin in a broken world,
as the One who is everything I need.
My outlook on my time on earth has shifted dramatically.
At 20 I was a relatively naive girl who looked starry-eyed into the future,
expecting sunsets and rainbows and castles in the sky.
I thought even if hard times come, eventually it would all be okay
and life would be beautiful again.
Now, ten years later, I feel like an old soul. :)
I feel like I’ve aged decades in the last year especially, and you know what?
I still love to see beauty in life,
to notice beautiful autumn days and pretty pumpkins
and enjoy biscotti and kiss my children even with their terrible morning breath
and celebrate my friendships:
it’s all a little glimpse off how He originally created life to be (without the bad breath).
I love to worship Him in that beauty.
But now I also know that there are things that won’t ever be “okay” again –
that the “perfect ending” won’t even come in this life.
That each day I have with the people I love is truly a gift,
and I never know when my lease on time will be over,
or when someone else’s will be over.
And in that instant the lease expires, life forever changes.
And I also realize like never before,
that JESUS is the ultimate prize.
Not just in Heaven, but NOW.
Knowing more of Jesus, becoming more like Him,
being transformed into His image sometimes through suffering,
this is all that really matters.
JESUS.
[precious words of Jesus about his death, and eternal life, from John 16:20,22
and that could also be seen as words from those who have gone to Heaven before us]
“I tell you the truth, you will mourn and weep over what will happen to me;you will grieve, but your grief will be turned to wonderful joy!…So you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and then you will rejoice,and no one can rob you of your joy!”
These things serve to remind me that I am not made for this world, not really.
They are daily reminders that this is just one short little stop until I get HOME,
and HOME is where everything will finally be okay.
Where the perfect, the happily-ever-after will be reality.
That is where Christ will be the completion and perfection of all I long for.
HOME is where I’ll be reunited with the ones I love,
and there won’t even be a question of how much time we have together.
And that Jesus is LIFE, and He is enough.
And I think this is Ruth’s experience. I can’t wait to join her!
I miss my friend Ruth so much. I miss her every single day, and so do many others.
I will always miss her, and love her.
Her legacy lives on, and continues to inspire others to live fully, as Dawn wrote so beautifully.
But I pray this grief is redeeming.
That I would live with a heart more fully alive than ever before.
That I would forgive more deeply, and love more freely.
That I would savor little things,
and delight in simple gifts.
That Jesus would live in me like never before.
This is seeping into my spirit right now. Thank you, THANK YOU for posting this. I did not know Ruth. I wish I had. I do not know you, but wish I could. I did know my mom and she died 2 months ago. Mommy. Gone. Thankfully, with Jesus. I strive to live my life a bit differently than she did because I don’t want cancer. Jesus is my constant, faithful supplier of strength and hope. I told him to take my tears and all of the tears of my family and mix them into the ocean because, yes, there’s something so very mighty and glorious there. And that’s where mom wanted us to scatter some of her remains. Grief is ongoing. It’s the bends and curves in each day. It can be the wall I put up or the crumbs I become when the right person asks the right question. God bless you, Dear, dear girl.
Dear Gail! I am so sorry for the loss of your mother too! That is one that would an on-going loss, and always felt. I loved these words you wrote: “Grief is ongoing. It’s the bends and curves in each day. It can be the wall I put up or the crumbs I become when the right person asks the right question.” So so true. May God be so near… xo
Thank you for sharing this very personal part of your heart. I understand about not wanting the pain but also growing so close to God. Grief does show us what is really important. I also love the chalkboard quote by Rick Warren. It’s good to remember that we are just aliens and sojourners here on earth and heaven is really our home. And God will someday wipe every tear from our eyes which means we will no longer have any sorrow. You are a deep and wise person because of your suffering.
Thank you, Cindy. Yes, Heaven is our real home, and how grief imbeds that deep into our souls… Blessings to you!
I enjoy reading your blog. We don’t know each other, but I know somehow it was meant to be that I got to read this. We lost our 28 year old son in June of this year. He left behind his wife of almost 6 years & she was pregnant with their 3rd child. Our grief is still so real. God bless you in your journey & for sharing your heart.
Esta, I am so humbled to hear from you! I remember hearing of your son and his family, even though I don’t know any of you, and since it was so soon after my friend’s death, my heart went out to all of you so much!! What incredble grief and loss you have experienced, and are still experiencing. When a death involves leaving behind young children it seems like the sorrow is multiplied so much! My prayers are with you, and your daughter-in-law and children. May God bring you comfort, and be so near…
What a beautiful post, Clarita. I was browsing your blog earlier today, enjoying the posts of your family trips and I came upon Ruth’s tribute from last year – a post that came just a couple months after I started following your blog. And all I could think about this morning was the little I know of you and Ruth’s friendship, but how deep it was in Christ – and now I know why you both were on my heart so heavily this morning. We don’t know each other, but, I’ll be praying for you, that the heavy emotions you carry over your loss would send you deep “into God, as deep as [you] can go” and that redemption would have it’s victory in your life. I know what it’s like to live through loss, and I thank you for the reminder to “savor little things, and delight in simple gifts” and always press into Christ.
Your blog is always at the top of my list to read as I love seeing the creativity and your adorable family. I pray today is a day of comfort for you! – Danielle
Danielle, you blessed me so much!! Thank you so much for praying, and for your words of encouragement. That meant more to me than you’ll ever know! xo
wow Clarita.
wow.
even though this year has not held the intense loss of life that yours has, i connect with so many of the things you write. hard times, like sorrow and grief truly do have a way of cleansing a soul and pressing the soul to something…i’m so glad that we have Jesus and can press closer to Him. even though we would not choose to lose a friend, or to go through hard times, somehow, in ways only eternity will reveal, truly there is redemption extended from God’s merciful hand.
thank you so much for sharing this piece of your soul.
love to you…
Much love to you too, Rachel! I love what you said, “truly there is redemption extended from God’s merciful hand…” There is SUCH hope and assurance in knowing and believing that! xo
Oh Clarita this was beautiful. I wish I could give you a hug.
XxOo
Thank you, Liz! xo
Much emotions while reading this, dear Clarita….thank you…it’s beautiful. I have many thoughts on grief after going through this past year and you beautifully put some of my thoughts into words. How grateful we sisters are to have had you walk with us through this past year. That biscotti tasted so good and made me think so much of the time Ruth sent me her yummy chocolate chip biscotti….a lovely memory, indeed.
Much, much love!
Dear dear Mary… What a treasure you and your family has been to me throughout this past year. I am so grateful for your friendship, and continually amazed at the grace of God poured on in your life. Ruth had the best family ever! I love you dearly.
I’m reading this just thinking about how if my best friend died I would feel like I was suffocating from lack of air. I can’t even imagine. I’m so, so sorry for your loss and your pain. I know it doesn’t make the pain go away, but I’m so glad for you that you have the hope of Heaven and being reunited with your dear friend one day.
Thank you, Jessica! ♥
Amen to the comments above. I have never met you either, Clarita, but I follow your blog almost daily. You have been a joy to my life as I know you were to Ruth’s life. She was so blessed to have had you on this earth as you were to have her. I have lost many but the loss of my 32 year-old nephew five years ago has been the hardest. I never knew that kind of pain existed. He was the son I never had. I have two beautiful grown daughters. But, I am also a Christian and without the loving arms of our Jesus Christ I could not make it. You write so beautifully and this article was especially touching. You and your family are loving souls who deeply touch everyone around you.
Thank you for your beautiful words, Janet! I love “meeting” people that knew and loved Ruth! I’m so sorry for your losses as well, and you are so right ~ without Jesus and His love we could not make it through the pain and sorry… I’m so thankful for the HOPE and anticipation of eternity – that this isn’t the end of the story, or of our friendship with Ruth! Love to you…
this brought tears to my eyes. having walked the very painful journey of losing a sibling, this just brings so much emotion. thank you for being vulnerable! hugs.
Janene, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you have lost a sibling. That would be one of the hardest things in the world! Hugs right back to you! xo
Thank you for your honest look at your own personal grief. No, we don’t “get over it”, but learn new ways to miss that ones we love. I too feel as if I have aged in the past year, maybe a decade or so. Ruth did love parties! She was an excellent hostess and I wish she was here to teach me how to be one. It’s funny how certain colors will remind me of her. I’ve bought a few things in the past year that just made me think of her. Love to you.
I love reminders of Ruth too! And I love how you have grieved her death and celebrated her life throughout this past year, Dawn. She had a dear friend in you!
Beautifully written. Consider yourself {hugged} this morning!
Thank you, Shannon!
Thank you, thank you. Yesterday it was one month since my father died. I, too, am so GRATEFUL for the hope Jesus Christ gives us. It makes all the difference in how we grieve our loved ones. I’m so sorry that you lost your dear friend, but rejoice in the hope that you have for her soul. A Priceless post!
I’m so sorry for your loss, Jewel! One month ago… that is so close, so just-happened. I am SO thankful for the assurance and hope of eternity ~ it does make all the difference in the world in how we grieve. The grief and loss are still so real and deep, but not without Hope! May God be near you…
You dear, beautiful girl! You took a big open wound and instead of filling it with bitterness, you filled it with God’s grace, and goodness, and love. You honor Ruth’s memory by loving life even more! And the beauty that has been bought with pain is now blessing others! Love you Clarita!!
Aww, April! You are such a dear. I love you too!
Clarita, this is so beautiful and such an encouragement to me. I am so sorry for your loss and I understand the pain you have been going through. This line you wrote “My outlook on my time on earth has shifted dramatically”- wow! can I ever relate to that! Since my mom’s death, I look at life so differently. I definitely cherish the ones I love and our time together more deeply. Your post has reaffirmed what I feel like the Lord has been working in me- to remind myself that He is using my suffering through grief to do good things in me.
What a beautiful tribute to your dear friend~
Kellie
Kellie, i’m so sorry for your loss too! And so true, how the death of someone we love shifts our perspective and view to eternity, and to what really matters in this life! Love to you…
Oh Clarita! I don’t even know what to say, but I love you and hurt for you! I admire your determination to see God in all of this pain. Anniversaries are really hard, especially at first.
Thank you, Audrey! I know you have experienced so much loss and grief of your own… How I admire you and your soft heart still…
Oh Clarita! I am beyond sorry for your loss. I’m sorry for the hurt you are still experiencing. My thoughts and prayers are with you and Ruth’s family. Even in your hurt, you are an inspiration. Just as you were blessed to have a friend like Ruth, Ruth was blessed to have a friend like you. Your post moved me to tears because I understand what you are going through. May God’s richest blessing be upon your and your and the Glick and Leatherman Families.
Thank you so much, Sarah! xo
<3 Wish I could give you a hug today.
I feel it, Beth! Love to you!
feeling a big gulpy lump in my throat.. what a precious outpouring from your heart. thank you for letting us in when i know the hurt is still so sensitive. there is something about gathering around someone in times of grief and just listening and sitting next to them. that’s what i felt through reading this.. and i hope you feel me reaching over to squeeze your hand tight.
every time i hear you talk of ruth i find myself wishing i had known her.
and then i smile because i realize, someday i will. :))
i love you dear friend and pray the Son will continue to shine across the shadows of your loss and warm your heart with His presence~
Aw, Amber! When you comment I DO feel as though we’re sitting on the sofa together over coffee. I feel your love and friendship ~ thank you! And I LOVE that thought – that someday you’ll get to meet Ruth, and vice versa. I think you’ll like each other. I know she read your blog. :) xoxo
Clarita, being Ruth’s mom I am blessed beyond measure that Ruth had you as a close friend. You wrote everything so well. What more can I say but, God is so good!!
Mrs. Glick, your words are so precious to me. Ruth’s friendship was such a treasure to me! And yes, what a good God we serve and love! I love you.
Clarita,
This was just beautiful. Your heart is beautiful-and yeah, thank you for pouring it all out on the page. What I noticed here, is that you love her well–and it is such an inspiration to me. Love You!
Thank you, Andrea! Yes, I loved her so much!
thank you for sharing such vulnerable thots and feelings. you are walking this grief journey well.
This friendship that you and ruth shared, it is an inspiration to me on so many levels, but mainly to be more intentional and loving in my relationships.
like amber said, i often wish I would have known her, but never thot about it before that I will have a chance to meet her one day:-) maybe just say hi at some point, when the two of you come up for air:-)
Your comment made me laugh, Thelma! I loved the “when you two come up for air.” :) I’ve never been so excited about Heaven before, and I love that so many other people will get to meet her and form friendships there too! That is such a great thought! And yes, to be more intentional and loving in relationships – that is a huge challenge to me too…
Dear Clarita,
Thank you so much for posting your thoughts. As I’ve told you lately I’m having such a hard time with losing Ruth. She was such a loving kind soul and there will never be anyone like her ever to pass through my life.
i have tears rolling down my face as I write this reply. I love how you wrote this and I can feel your pain through your writing. I only had the pleasure of really knowing her for five or six years and I say that to say I can’t imagine how all of you feel knowing how I feel only having her in my life for such a short time. I find myself staying away from her end of the street because she’s not there anymore and it hurts to go up there and know I won’t be greeted by her warm and friendly smile and those eyes! How can anyone ever forget those beautiful eyes! I loved her so much! She will be forever sketched in my heart.
I say AMEN to everything you wrote.
Thank you,
Terri
Terri, I’m so sorry for the loss you are feeling too! Ruth touched so many lives simply by who she was, and she will always be missed! And yes, she had THE most beautiful eyes – so expressive and full of life! What a treasure we have in her friendship – a friendship that is kind of on hold for now, but it will continue in Heaven! Love to you…
I love how you take it all in and process and write it so well. How I miss her . . . And am so thankful for you and . . . that if we had to experience the past year, that we were blessed with each other’s friendships and others who loved her so much to share our hearts and memories and hard & good days. Xoxo. So glad you had the gift of the ocean and The Lord and solitude on Sunday.
I know you miss her too! It’s been so precious to have friends to walk with this year, to talk about Ruth, to know we’ll always miss her and the hole she leaves! Won’t Heaven be so much fun when all the friendships can be together again? I can hardly wait. :)
I have just lost one of my best friends almost 3 months ago to cancer. I have read every one of these words and drank them in. Thank you for your openness.
Julie, I’m so sorry for your loss… Three months ago must still seem like yesterday, and so much raw ache! May God be Comfort to you and be so near… xo
What a beautiful post, Clarita. I’m so, so sorry for your loss…there are no words. What a sweet friend Ruth must have been. Thank you for sharing your heart today!
Thank you, Aimee!
It’s rather heart wrenching to see someone facing deep pain, but it is also beautiful to see you taking your pain to Jesus and finding comfort in Him. I”m so sorry for the loss you face every day. I’m glad you got to have quiet time away to grieve and process. Hugs~
Thank you, Christy! The time away was balm for my soul… Love you!
well written.
tears….
Aww, Sharon! Much much love to you…
Not only did you portray the beauty of your friendship with Ruth, you shared the beauty of the rawness of life. Because it’s the pain that awakens life and passion. Pain is what we push away from and yet as we process through pain and loss, we are awakened to peace and life.
And even though I didn’t know Ruth, I’m pretty sure she’s celebrating her new life every. single. day!!
You are so right… Pain DOES awaken life and passion, but what a hard process to get there! I loved your words, and was so encouraged by them. xo
I love that you have run to the God of all comfort. Some of us take a long time to do that and miss a lot of beautiful life in the meantime. This is a beautiful post.
Thank you, Luci! Sometimes I take a long time to run to God too… and like you said, miss a lot of God and life in the process.
This is not the end of the story! I’m grateful for that, and for you. xoxo
You have become so dear to me through this past year, Amy. Ruth had such a treasure in your friendship, and I feel privileged to know you now too! Much love!
I am so amazed at your love for Jesus and at your sweet spirit….how you are letting this experience draw you closer to HIM. sending my love. I have no words, except that I am so so sorry that you are missing your best friend.
You are so sweet, Jennie! Thank you!
There aren’t really any words for this. I’m so sorry about the deep, deep pain in your heart and yet, so encouraged and inspired. Both by the way you take it to our Comforter and by the way Ruth lived her life. It’s also been making me think more about the friendships in my own life and how much I take for granted …. the gift is eternal in that there is Heaven, but it may not always look like what it looks like today.
Grief is a strange journey, isn’t it? And I think it is that way no matter where the grief originates. So glad you got to spend time alone to think and pray and process. Hugs to you!
Yes, I agree that Ruth’s passing has completely changed the way I look at friendships! The not taking for granted, but also the way I give to relationships, or hold back from them… She showed me so much of what true friendship is like. And I love how you worded that – that friendship is eternal, but maybe not for today. That is a comforting thought! xo
This is so beautiful and I know it’s every bit your heart.
Aw love… you have been such a dear sister and friend to me. How I love you!
How I long for the ability to express things the way you do. This is a beautiful post. I’m so sorry for your loss….and what a blessed girl she was to have a friend like you!
Thank you, Kassie… I think you express yourself so beautifully as well!
I could not quite read all of this the day you posted it. I was too raw. And now, well, I thought I could handle it, but I’m reminded how I’ll never “get over it,” NEVER. I’ll never be over how much she is missed. I loved these words though, Clarita. I cry, I laugh, I become expressionless…all results of missing someone to the very core. I love you, and I miss you…It’s so wonderful knowing someone that Ruth loved SO, so deeply.
Love and more love, Mrs. Crandall