Commenting – a ping back to Sunday Poser #108


Sadje poses a question every Sunday. This week it is a question concerning the importance of commenting on blog posts. Here’s a link: https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2022/11/27/sunday-poser-108/

Personally, I love interacting with other bloggers. I had originally started my blog in 2012 and then let it lapse for several years until wildfires forced the evacuation of the city where I live and I turned back to my blog to write out the horrors. Since then my blog has served as a receptacle of my grief when my brother was killed by a drunk driver in 2016 and again now as I travel that path of grief since my husband’s death two months ago.

I have gotten to know several people through my blog. I am so grateful for all the support I have received over the years. The comments made on my posts have lifted me again and again.

It is also important to me to make time to read what others have posted. It is really such a small world when it comes to blogging. I have “met” people from all over the globe and it has been an enriching and satisfying experience. I enjoy commenting and reading the comments others have written on the posts I read. We have become a community, a family of sorts. The connections are important to me. I have come to care deeply about the people I communicate with on WordPress.

So, for me, commenting and responding to comments, whether on my own blog or on others, is important to me. And, more than that, it is a joy!

Coping with grief, coping with life


I’ve been binge watching Grey’s Anatomy to distract myself from grief. Most of you know my husband died recently. And before I get advice about sitting with the pain, trust me I have been. I don’t only binge on old seasons of Greys, I have also been walking to get out of the house and to allow nature to heal the pain. Walking really does help. And today I went back to work after a long absence. I would like to write something eloquent and wise but I just don’t have it in me of late. Any creativity seems to have been frozen with the death of the man I loved. I’d like to write something positive and inspirational. I don’t have that in me either at the moment. So, I am uploading a photo I captured yesterday. Please forgive my lack of writing skill as I cope with grief; cope with this new reality, this new life without him.

Sometimes when my spirit feels as frozen as the fields in winter it helps to get out in nature and just breathe.

Presence of God, a few words (a ping back)


Sadje, over at Keep it Live created this post asking, What is Faith? Click on the link at the bottom to go to her post:

As many of you know my husband died on the 23rd of September. The grief was so overwhelming and more painful than mere words can describe. I’ve been praying to God to walk with me; to grant me strength to endure it. God’s presence has guided me, strengthened me, given me courage to go on. Faith has been my anchor and my shield throughout my life. I believe in the power of prayer. And I am so grateful for God’s presence in my life.

https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/87325236/posts/4394163511

Lighting candles this cold November


November is ripe with the anniversaries of the deaths of several family members: my father, brother, aunts and uncles. The shortened days and dark dreariness sometimes contribute to the weariness of another winter. On the 23rd it will be two months since I lost my husband. Today marks six years since my brother died. Time marches on and on, sometimes very slowly, at others much too fast. There is something about the darkness that makes grief feel so much heavier and harder to bear. But I do feel a bit of a shift. I think I am beginning to get my feet back under me. Fortunately we’ve had lovely sunshine today and milder temps so I was able to get out for a bit of a walk. I played peek-a-boo with a chickadee – I was trying to grab a photograph but he or she was having none of it. It was lovely to watch them though and to listen to their song. Small blessings, for sure, and brought a bit of joy to my soul. I am trying to force myself to go out at least a couple of times a week. Sometimes it’s just a short walk around the green space behind our apartment building, Other times it’s up the road where the city has cool cutaways between streets, many are lined with trees giving the illusion of being deep in a forest and it is most often there that I walk. There is something about trees that is balm for my spirit – even when I am steeped in sadness. So I will light candles for each of my loved ones and give thanks for “forests” and trees and the gift of nature’s solace.

The top photo is taken behind my apt. building. the second in a new cutaway I found and the bottom is another. Wherever you live on this beautiful planet I hope you’re able to commune with nature in some way. For me it is a soothing reprieve and life affirming.

Plugging my book


Randy was a much better salesman of my book than I am. He is nudging me to do this so blame him. LOL

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-quarry-carol-morrissey-hopkins/1140322481?ean=9780228864677

The above link is for Barnes and Noble but it is also available on many online sites or can be purchased through Chapters, Indigo and Coles. It is also available on Amazon as an eBook.

You never truly went away


I see you

In the faces of our children

I hear your joy

In their laughter

I feel your love embrace us all

As we hug one another close

You are here, my love

You are here

In the love that shimmers

In the darkness of the night

And the light of every day

You are here

You are here

You never truly went away

Old friends


There is an old rhyme that goes, “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, the other gold.”

This weekend an old friend came to visit me, to laugh with me and to grieve with me. It’s costing her substantially financially: an airplane ticket, hotel room, dining out, and taxi cabs. She said to me “it’s the least I can do”. I beg to differ, the least she could do is stay home and not bother. Yet, here she is. Not many people would go to such lengths to provide comfort and support. That’s pretty incredible. My friend’s husband died four years ago so she understands better than most all the emotional upheaval that has come about since my hubby died six weeks ago. She understands the feelings of being lost, and the challenges inherent in transitioning from being part of a couple to suddenly single.

I have been so richly blessed by the friends and family who have reached out, including friends I have not actually met in person but who have become part of my life through this medium, as well as other social media. I am grateful. My life is indeed so rich in blessings; in the gifts of love, compassion and empathy so liberally poured out upon me and my family. My blessing cup is definitely overflowing. I thank you all.

Autumn Gold

SPOOKY and smokey


A month after my husband died I grabbed these spooky pics. The effect was caused by smoke drifting over the city from a forest fire nearby. I usually love Halloween and seeing all the little ones dressed up. Not so much this year. Death and ghoulishness is not something I could ever celebrate. My taste runs more to the cute and innocent, which little children exhibit in spades, especially at Halloween. Yet, these pics seem to demonstrate the very definition of “spooky”.

Love rolls down my cheek


Love rolls down my cheek

When I think of you

Which is often,

A random thing

Triggers the pain

Of missing you

Love rolls down my cheeks

Some call it tears

But I know

It is love

Love I cannot give you

In the same way of days before

Days of yore

The ticking clock reminds me

Of the passing of time

Of days sublime

With love, with joy

Love rolls down my cheeks

Over and over

In the early morn

In the dining hours

In the darkness of the night

Missing you, and the life we had

Love rolls down my cheeks

For you are no longer here

On this plain, on this earth

You are so far away

Like dust turned to stars

Sacred, holy dust

Blown away

Scattering your energies everywhere

Love rolls down my cheeks

I will bear the scars

The price I pay gladly

For the love

That rolls down my cheeks