Sunday Mornings

I’ve decided.

Sunday mornings are for coffee and writing.

I have a lovely Phil and Sebastian coffee and no one is around – it’s Rosy and David’s favorite morning for sleeping in. And, I am feeling inspired and introspective.

The past three years have been an extraordinary journey. Grief is a most unusual and unpredictable companion. In those raw, early hours, literally 36 hours, I heard my children – Jon’s siblings – asking the question, “What would Jon do?” Of course, he wasn’t there to give his opinion, but in those hazy, unsettling days this became our mantra and I suppose in this new way, he was there. And still is. What a wonderful gift he gave to us to help us navigate this new surreality.

I’ve watched, from afar, three other moms who have lost their children in this most sudden and shocking of ways. Each has channeled their energy into different places… I wonder how each is doing, how their journeys are unfolding. I realize I am not alone in my grief and that grief is a journey that everyone gets to navigate for themselves. There is no map, no predetermined path.

I’m not the person I was before Jon died.


I no longer fret the stupid stuff and by stupid stuff, I mean most stuff. I no longer worry – such a waste of good energy. I have come to expect only the best. I love the idea that there is only good coming my way (and your way too). Life just gets better when you let go of worry. Stuff is going to happen, you get to choose how you react and in doing so, you create the outcome. This is something Jon lived by.

These days, my passion flows in its natural direction. I love bigger, clearer and better than ever. I cook bigger and better too. I physically feel better than I have in years. And, it’s not just about eating well, it’s about complete nourishment in being true to the person who knows me best – me.

So Sunday mornings are for writing and coffee and sharing. What do you do?