Grief is a tide. It goes out for a while, seeming distant and calm, only to come crashing back on the sand again and again. And I keep getting up to move my chair back from it, lest I be washed out to sea.
Also on these boards
The Inspiration...Close my eyes and take me here! Great contest board from Liz Carroll pinterest.com/...
:) Pinner said: Photo reminds me of the Hymn: The Love of God (3rd Verse) Could we with ink the ocean fill, And were the skies of parchment made, Were every stalk on earth a quill, And every man a scribe by trade; To write the love of God above Would drain the ocean dry; Nor could the scroll contain the whole, Though stretched from sky to sky.