Debs, this is heartbreakingly beautiful. You’ve put words to the kind of love and grief that lives deep in the quiet corners of us—the kind that resurfaces with a song, a scent, a memory we didn’t even know we were guarding.
Your line “I know he loved me. And most days, that’s enough.” stopped me in my tracks. It holds so much grace and acceptance, and the way you shared those Sunday memories—off-key whistling, grilled cheese, swinging legs—felt like a hug from the past.
This piece is a gift to anyone still carrying love and loss side by side. Thank you for letting us sit at that kitchen table with you. I’m so honoured to walk this path beside you. Always here, always cheering you on. 💛😭🤗✨️
My pleasure, my friend. Always, Debs. Your table, your words, hold so much heart. Thank you for letting us in so tenderly. I'm endlessly grateful for this connection and for the quiet strength you share. Here's to walking this path together, with love and light. 💛✨️
Thank you, my friend. That means so much. Some days the ache feels quiet, other days it echoes louder, but your words remind me how memory can soften the weight. Sending love right back to you, and so much gratitude for the way you honour love and loss so beautifully. ❤️
Debs, this is heartbreakingly beautiful. You’ve put words to the kind of love and grief that lives deep in the quiet corners of us—the kind that resurfaces with a song, a scent, a memory we didn’t even know we were guarding.
Your line “I know he loved me. And most days, that’s enough.” stopped me in my tracks. It holds so much grace and acceptance, and the way you shared those Sunday memories—off-key whistling, grilled cheese, swinging legs—felt like a hug from the past.
This piece is a gift to anyone still carrying love and loss side by side. Thank you for letting us sit at that kitchen table with you. I’m so honoured to walk this path beside you. Always here, always cheering you on. 💛😭🤗✨️
Oh friend, thank you for sitting at that kitchen table with me. I’m so grateful to walk alongside you too. Truly. 💛
My pleasure, my friend. Always, Debs. Your table, your words, hold so much heart. Thank you for letting us in so tenderly. I'm endlessly grateful for this connection and for the quiet strength you share. Here's to walking this path together, with love and light. 💛✨️
My Mums Dad passed away in August 2021 and her Mum in April 1996. 😭❤️
Two profound losses. That’s such a deep pain to carry. I’m so sorry. Sending love to you and your mum as you hold their memory close. 💕
Thank you, my friend. That means so much. Some days the ache feels quiet, other days it echoes louder, but your words remind me how memory can soften the weight. Sending love right back to you, and so much gratitude for the way you honour love and loss so beautifully. ❤️