I‘m still living in the house me and my parents have been living since 1967. It is my house and my home now. After my mom passed away it took me two and a half year to move down from my rooms on the second floor into their rooms, to start to make them my ones.
Need fresh wallpaper, furniture and a sofa. But it feels good now. Finally. It was and is a long hard way. Sometimes I can feel that they are here, visiting me.
❤️ thank you for sharing that with me. I can really feel the depth of what you’ve been through—and the love that still lives in those rooms.
It takes so much courage to make a space your own after so much history has unfolded there. Two and a half years isn’t hesitation, it’s honouring. A slow settling with a gentleness. I’m glad it’s starting to feel good for you now.
Reading your message made me reflect on my own path. After my parents passed, I rushed into renovations. I think I was trying to do something—to make the space feel different, maybe to protect myself from the full weight of the grief. My mom never got to see the changes. My dad did, and if I’m being honest, I still feel some guilt about how quickly I moved forward.
I know I still need to make peace with that. But your words reminded me that there’s no one right way to carry love and loss.
Looking forward to seeing you in November. I mean I hope you’ll be there. :)) 😉
Great photo of you and your father- you have the same smile and probably the same eyes but hard to tell with the reflection. Can't wait to hear a sample of the songs.
Stay well and enjoy the warmth of the summer that is coming.
Thank you. ❤️. I’m not sure where that picture came from. But I know that it was in Cape Breton probably 20 years ago.
I don’t know that anyone has ever told me I have my dad’s smile but I can still remember him teaching me how to smile for a photo—not in a cheesy way, just something that felt like me. I don’t know if I used to force it or what, but he told me, “Just whisper Christy under your breath.”
Christy is my grandmother—his mom. And now, whenever I’m getting my picture taken, or standing with my arm around someone, just before the shutter clicks, I whisper her name.
And he was right. When I land on Christy, that’s it. That’s my smile. It feels easy. Natural. Like it belongs to all three of us.
He had a quiet way of passing on wisdom like that. Sometimes I wasn’t ready for it and sometimes, Im sure I felt too vulnerable to hear it— but this one stuck. I’m glad it did. :)
Hi, Brenley
I‘m still living in the house me and my parents have been living since 1967. It is my house and my home now. After my mom passed away it took me two and a half year to move down from my rooms on the second floor into their rooms, to start to make them my ones.
Need fresh wallpaper, furniture and a sofa. But it feels good now. Finally. It was and is a long hard way. Sometimes I can feel that they are here, visiting me.
All we need is love. Love makes us strong.
xxx
❤️ thank you for sharing that with me. I can really feel the depth of what you’ve been through—and the love that still lives in those rooms.
It takes so much courage to make a space your own after so much history has unfolded there. Two and a half years isn’t hesitation, it’s honouring. A slow settling with a gentleness. I’m glad it’s starting to feel good for you now.
Reading your message made me reflect on my own path. After my parents passed, I rushed into renovations. I think I was trying to do something—to make the space feel different, maybe to protect myself from the full weight of the grief. My mom never got to see the changes. My dad did, and if I’m being honest, I still feel some guilt about how quickly I moved forward.
I know I still need to make peace with that. But your words reminded me that there’s no one right way to carry love and loss.
Looking forward to seeing you in November. I mean I hope you’ll be there. :)) 😉
I will be there 👍
Great photo of you and your father- you have the same smile and probably the same eyes but hard to tell with the reflection. Can't wait to hear a sample of the songs.
Stay well and enjoy the warmth of the summer that is coming.
Thank you. ❤️. I’m not sure where that picture came from. But I know that it was in Cape Breton probably 20 years ago.
I don’t know that anyone has ever told me I have my dad’s smile but I can still remember him teaching me how to smile for a photo—not in a cheesy way, just something that felt like me. I don’t know if I used to force it or what, but he told me, “Just whisper Christy under your breath.”
Christy is my grandmother—his mom. And now, whenever I’m getting my picture taken, or standing with my arm around someone, just before the shutter clicks, I whisper her name.
And he was right. When I land on Christy, that’s it. That’s my smile. It feels easy. Natural. Like it belongs to all three of us.
He had a quiet way of passing on wisdom like that. Sometimes I wasn’t ready for it and sometimes, Im sure I felt too vulnerable to hear it— but this one stuck. I’m glad it did. :)
Also, I think it has served me well, because now I think of my grandmother, rather than a big plate of cheese!!! Hahahaha