Still a Wonderful World

I’ve tossed around about a hundred opening sentences–in my head–and I have to say, for a writeIMG_4642 (1)r, I’m sorely lacking in the words department. But I suspect that’s because I’m sorely lacking in general and I’m just going to go ahead and blame the Beneficent Mr. Hall.

He didn’t intend to leave this earth on Father’s Day but there you have it. And so I’m left behind to figure out the bills ( he always paid ’em) and put gas in my car (he always filled it up) and cook for one (okay, we all know I was never much of a cook but I was on sort of a self-pity roll there). It’s no wonder that words are the last thing on my mind.

Except.

Except words have been a lifesaver for me.

Not my words, though. Yours. The kind words, the compassionate words, the loving words, the funny words…gosh. So many words! And every single one has meant the world to me. Never again will I wonder if a sympathy card or note really means anything. Or if I should say something to a friend who’s grieving. Β Or pick up the phone and call, even if I’m not sure what to say.

Now, I know better.

I’m reminded of a line from one of Mister Man’s favorite songs, What a Wonderful World:

I see friends shaking hands, saying how do you do. They’re really saying I love you.

Not a day goes by that someone doesn’t ask, “How are you?”And so I thank you for asking, for all the words that make me laugh or make me cry. They–and you–have lifted me up more than you can imagine. I kinda think the Beneficent Mr. Hall would like to thank you, too.

(P.S. I’m back at The Muffin today, going on about the steps you might want to take to get yourself into a writer’s conference. I think it makes sense, but like the girl in that commercial says, “I can’t make any pwomises.”)

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36 thoughts on “Still a Wonderful World

  1. Great photo of you with your husband I know that you miss him so much. I wish that I had known him. The Centerville Writers Group is tomorrow. Homer

  2. Oh, Cathy, I am so incredibly sorry for your loss.

    I am so glad you have found some comfort in the words of friends and family. Please, please add my heartfelt words and thoughts and prayers to them. Please take care of yourself.

  3. Oh my goodness … Cathy. I am absolutely at a loss for words as well. The last post I read from you was the cute ‘tiny doors’ post, in which all was well. I am just stunned. I am so very sorry for your tremendous & irreplaceable loss. I know there is nothing that can be said that makes the ache and hurt go away, but please know that this writer friend of yours will be keeping you and your children in my thoughts and prayers as you begin to navigate through a new and different version of normal.

  4. Think about you all of the time. Last time I saw you, you were waiting on him to pick you up from the conference, because, in addition to other great roles, he was also a wonderful chauffeur, I understand. Sending hugs.

  5. Love the picture and reading your positive words today, Cathy. My hubby passed 30 yrs. ago this year. I wallowed, but never withdrew from life-he would have kicked my butt if I had!! Keep moving forward-we all need you. Be sure to take those “me time” moments. Huge hugs! Gonna go visit The Muffin.

  6. Sweet Cathy, The moment I saw your name in my new mail, I smiled. I smiled because I knew you’d have a nugget of wisdom to share and maybe even a funnie. And I smiled because your post meant you are ready to try to bring joy back into your life. We have missed you so. We miss Mr. Man along with you and family. There was always laughter around you and Dave. The last time I saw you two, was when y’all gave Pippi and me a ride home from Dori’s book launch. Just as we stepped outside LSOS, it began to rain. Your call to Dave asking where he was a convo that made me smile Cathy: Where are you? No, we’re not walking to the car in the rain! Come get us. You’ll see us, Gail has the dog! (This was the only side of the convo I heard but I could figure out Dave’s part.) This still makes me smile.

    Grief will ebb and flow. Soon though, I hope you will find the moments of joy will be greater than the times of sadness. Pippi said to tell you that we are available for lunching, shopping, and little door scouting. Unfortunately, I can’t offer to drive- it’s frowned upon when you have a guide dog to help you see. I suppose we could let Pippi drive, but without those opposable thumbs, it’s kind of risky.
    Thinking of you and sending healing energy to you and your kids. G and P

    • Oh, Gail, you made me laugh, too! Yep, he was good about carting me (and others) around, wasn’t he? I wish I had his sense of direction. I reckon I’ll have to break down and get a smart phone now so I can get GPS. Though I’m still not sure I won’t get lost all the time. Maybe I could borrow Pippi? πŸ™‚

  7. So good to hear from you and get an update on how you’re doing. Praying for little bits of wonderful blessing to shine on you in even the darkest days. And I love the beautiful picture with this post…that one needs a frame! ❀

    • Didn’t you take that pic, Deb? We were at the SJN fall festival and I was selling Chicken Soup for the Soul books. And Dave, as usual, was sitting around, sort of supporting me, sort of harassing me. πŸ™‚ (I feel those prayers, Deb, and blessings, too. β™₯)

  8. Sometimes words are all we have to mend our broken hearts. I’m so happy that you’re writing again and working through your grief. .

  9. Oh! I’m so sorry. Sending hugs your way, and I’m really not known for being a hugger.

    Last week, a friend of my mom’s called to ask how my boys were doing with their college activities. She said she had been missing my mom (she passed away a year and a half ago) and wanted to call, because she knew how much those boys meant to her.

    Yes, the words of others mean a lot.

  10. Cathy, YOUR words have brought so many of us to laughter and tears over the years, it’s no wonder folks have been reaching right back out to you. I really love seeing your name out and about; no one would blame you if you’d taken an extended hibernation. But I’m glad – though I’m sure it’s not easy – you’re choosing to stay engaged. Thank you for sharing your heart. Sending love, and a hug whether you want it or not, too – XO

  11. Oh, no, Cathy! I’m so terribly sorry to hear this news! I’ve been lax in following blogs lately, so if you wrote about it earlier, I apologize sincerely for not reading it and sending you a note. I’ll be keeping you and your Jr. Halls in my heart and prayers. I believe he’s still right there by your side, even if you don’t see him. Hang in there, friend.

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