He has always been the giver,
always pouring his heart into everything he does, offering support and kindness
with a generosity that knows no bounds.
His presence is a balm to the weary soul, a reminder that there is still good
in the world.
He gives without expectation, without condition, and without apology.
His heart is a wellspring of love, overflowing with compassion and empathy.
I wonder what grief would write
about him if it were to scribble onto paper after he’s finally fallen asleep.
Maybe something like;
“Learn to count your blessings without denying your problems.
You don’t have to choose between gratitude and struggle. Both can coexist, and
you can thank the sunrise while facing the storm. Just breathe.”
These words would be penned in the tears of sorrow, a reflection of the pain and
the beauty that he embodied.
In his absence, the world seems a
little darker, a little quieter. The weight of his departure settles heavy on
the hearts of those who loved him.
Yet, even in grief, there is a reminder of the lessons he taught us.
He showed us that kindness is a choice, that compassion is a muscle that can be
developed, and that love can be a balm to the soul.
As we navigate the storm of our
emotions, we are reminded to breathe. To breathe in the memories of his love,
to breathe out the pain of his loss.
We are reminded to count our blessings, not in spite of our problems, but
because of them.
For it is in the darkness that we are forced to confront our own strength, our
own resilience, and our own capacity for love.
In the silence, we hear his voice,
whispering words of comfort, words of encouragement.
We feel his presence, a gentle reminder that we are not alone, that we are loved,
and that we are enough.
And as we face the storm, we know that he is with us, guiding us, supporting
us, and loving us every step of the way.
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