(Hey, hey! Happy Friday, y’all! Over the last few months, I have discovered some wonderfully written blogs! I found Ashley Hales’ blog, Circling The Story, through another wonderful writer/blogger, Lindsey Andrews. I was blessed with the opportunity to share a guest blog post about my grief journey on Ashley’s site. Please read the snippet below! Thanks, afrotasticlady)
“I’ve never had a full appreciation of snow. Last year, it snowed frequently in New England. We trudged through snow castles. We struggled to dig out our cars.
Grief reminds me of a heavy snowfall. Trees are strewn with the white chunks. Sidewalks are buried in it. Folks are crammed in their houses. They demand a return to their daily activities. Still, the snow continues to drop. Grief dropped into my chest when I was a teenager. The doctors had informed my family that my sister, Wanda, had only six months to live. Yet, Wanda lived longer than the time frame that the doctors gave her. While she lived with multiple sclerosis for over fifteen years, I wrestled in snow. I gasped in the wetness. I willed the tears back into my eyelids.
My parents were her daily caregivers, and we’d figured out that we could communicate with Wanda through facial expressions. A grimace showed us that she was in pain. A twitch of her head displayed that she’d heard us call her name.”
Please read the rest of the post here!