he was a vibrant man; laughter and sunshine, brilliance and rain: he loved the finer things in life like cigarettes, alcohol, women and pain; but, when he held me in his arms i never doubted what he said: i just never understood…i would never hear him again
yes, I hear you
In Memory of John Sheperd Thatcher
September 7, 1942-February 10, 2005
May peace keep you, guide you and find you.
There is a deep appreciation that I have not acknowledged, a personal moment that I will remember for the rest of my life. Where a person’s compassion was not afraid to speak in a moment when they could have remained silent. This gratitude I wish to extend to a stranger’s voice that reached me in my raw grief.
Sincerely, Deeply, Thank You.
Several years ago, I cried a daughter’s tears. I wept a deep anguish in the back of a bathroom stall. Hidden to the world, I refused to be seen, yet my silence could not be contained. In the acceptance of a sentence that was soon to occur, I bawled. Ugly, unforgiving sobs, cowering in the face of my future.
In the middle of my pain, not recognizing there was another person in the world, a voice drifted to me. A real individual whose face I would never see, reached out simply, beautiful and heartfelt. She told me, “I’m sorry.”
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