Sean Renshaw--I think of how our brains can’t tell the difference between sand between our toes and the spray of a turquoise ocean misting the face in our imagination.
Yes, he's gone now, yet here he is on your page, in your space, so special you wanted to share him with us. And now we care about him, too, and care about your family as they grieve, and care about you, too, dear Holly.
As I deal with my own grief I finally realize it's meant to be shared. Grief is universal. We're all affected by it in our lifetimes, and there is comfort in knowing we're not alone in understanding how brutal the deaths are, yet how necessary the memories.
Thank you, Ramona. I so appreciate these thoughts. I know you know grief well. As you say, grief is indeed universal. It’s one of the many ways we can see ourselves in each other, in everyone around us. And it’s deeply important we are able to do that.
My heart aches for my brother-in-law and his family. It made me realize how deeply grateful I am for the readers I have here when I realized I wanted to share Sean with you.
What a beautiful meditation on the lifelong presence of an absence. Sean was what my mother called a rare spirit. I’m sorry for the void this loved and loving man leaves in your family’s world.
“The lifelong presence of an absence.” Now there’s a Rona-ism, and a beautiful and wise one. He really was a rare spirit. I am deeply grateful for his presence in my brother-in-law and sister‘s family, and only wish it had been longer.
Beautiful. Your words stopped me today. The rhythm and flow of images and emotion nudges me open to love and grief as only great art can. Thank you for sharing the light shadow cast by this dear person. It’s a reminder to try to be that for my own dear ones.
My goodness, the heart of your brother-in-law, brought to all of us through you and your imaginative empathy stepping inside and through all of his beloveds. Heart-breaking my beautiful. Thank you for sharing your grief with us and showing us how to hold it inside a cocoon of love.
Yes, he's gone now, yet here he is on your page, in your space, so special you wanted to share him with us. And now we care about him, too, and care about your family as they grieve, and care about you, too, dear Holly.
As I deal with my own grief I finally realize it's meant to be shared. Grief is universal. We're all affected by it in our lifetimes, and there is comfort in knowing we're not alone in understanding how brutal the deaths are, yet how necessary the memories.
We need to remember out loud. Or on the page.
And you did it beautifully here. ❤️💔❤️
Thank you, Ramona. I so appreciate these thoughts. I know you know grief well. As you say, grief is indeed universal. It’s one of the many ways we can see ourselves in each other, in everyone around us. And it’s deeply important we are able to do that.
My heart aches for my brother-in-law and his family. It made me realize how deeply grateful I am for the readers I have here when I realized I wanted to share Sean with you.
I'm really glad you did.
What a beautiful meditation on the lifelong presence of an absence. Sean was what my mother called a rare spirit. I’m sorry for the void this loved and loving man leaves in your family’s world.
“The lifelong presence of an absence.” Now there’s a Rona-ism, and a beautiful and wise one. He really was a rare spirit. I am deeply grateful for his presence in my brother-in-law and sister‘s family, and only wish it had been longer.
What a beautiful and heartfelt tribute to your brother-in-law. My eyes filled with tears for your loss and my heart ached for your heart ache.
I am touched by our capacity to feel each others’ hurting. It’s a truly beautiful thing.
❤️
Thank you, thank you, Mary. ♥️
Return to find and be found. Always. Heart hugs, Holly, for all the ways Sean will be missed, and the ways he'll never leave. I'm so sorry.
“ all the ways he’ll never leave.” Beautiful. Our capacity to carry with us those we’ve lost, in our hearts and minds and cells, is a Profound thing.
Love and light to you and your family, Holly. You made something beautiful here.
Thank you, thank you, Emily. So have these heart felt responses made something beautiful. ♥️
💜
I couldn't agree more, Emily.
♥️ thank you, Sue.
Beautiful. Your words stopped me today. The rhythm and flow of images and emotion nudges me open to love and grief as only great art can. Thank you for sharing the light shadow cast by this dear person. It’s a reminder to try to be that for my own dear ones.
Julie, thank you. I so dearly appreciate you. ♥️
This is gorgeous writing. I have tears in my eyes and I don’t know you or Sean. What a lovely tribute.
Jennie, thank you. Thank you for reading and for sharing. ♥️♥️
My goodness, the heart of your brother-in-law, brought to all of us through you and your imaginative empathy stepping inside and through all of his beloveds. Heart-breaking my beautiful. Thank you for sharing your grief with us and showing us how to hold it inside a cocoon of love.
Oh, Kimberly. I love this image of holding grief in a cocoon of love. Just beautiful. Thank you. I will hold onto that.
Such a warm and loving tribute. Your words make me wish I'd known him. He will be deeply missed by all who did. ❤️
That’s lovely to hear, Julie. He was such a sweet man. I’m sure he would’ve loved to know him. Thank you, thank you for reading and commenting.♥️
Oh. Oh no. I’m so sorry Holly
Thank you, Jenna. ♥️♥️
❤️❤️❤️
♥️♥️♥️ back your way, dear friend.
Sorry you lost this lovely sounding man, Holly.
A lovely man indeed. Thank you, Michael. ♥️
Beautiful
Thank you, Kenneth. ♥️
Sigh. I’m so sorry for this huge loss. Thank you for this gorgeous remembrance.
Mary, thank you. I so appreciate you taking the time to take in this remembrance.. ♥️
So sorry for your family's recent loss. This is a beautiful tribute to the person in relation to various family members.
Deepest sympathies for your and family's loss, Holly. 💙