You know that old cliché “we’ve got so many things to be thankful for”?
Well, guess what? Like many clichés, I’ve discovered that, for me at least, this one turns out to be true.
Not only that, the more things I’m thankful for, the more they seem to multiply.
When I was little,
I used to believe in the concept of one best friend,
And then I started to become a woman.
And then I found out that if you allow your heart to open up,
God would show you the best in many friends.
By Catherine Pastille
They were trying to save her life.
That’s why the attending medical staff had ushered me away from my mother’s bedside, leaving me to stand alone in the middle of the hospital corridor.
I felt as if an invisible umbilical cord was being shredded. It was quite strange. Although I was an adult, I became aware that there was something quite powerful that connected us, and I sensed it being pulled away from the center of my body – I could feel it, in physical way.
The doctors asked what I wished them to do – resuscitate? Use a ventilator? Let her go? I was at the center of what felt like an approaching storm – one I knew I could not avoid.
It was then that I saw her coming toward me with open arms; and when I did, I knew in an instant that this was no ordinary moment…
Susan notes: Steve Sosebee wrote this tribute to his wife Huda on September 1, 2008, to kick off an effort to raise funds for the Palestinian Children’s Relief Fund. Steve told me in early 2009 that Huda had been diagnosed with leukemia; she died in July 15, 2009. Steve was, and still is, devasted by the loss of his beloved Huda. Theirs was a love and passion that few have the privilege of experiencing...
Posted By Steve Sosebee
It is hard to put into words the depth of my love, respect, admiration, attraction, and general friendship that I have for you.
You are more than just a wife, you are the foundation of my strength and the source that has brought joy and happiness into my life.
Besides connecting with, and being inspired by, lots of amazing women over the last week, I lost two things of importance to me: a Gucci watch and a home. Actually, to be more precise, I lost the watch, the home I’m in the process of losing.
My ex-husband gave me the Gucci soon after we married. I think the latch broke, worn down after more than two decades of use, and the watch fell off in a street somewhere. Something similar, metaphorically speaking, happened to our marriage.