Wednesday, January 18, 2012


It is natural for my son to put his arm around his grandmother. Like his father, he is a comforter. He knows intuitively the right moment to reach for a hand and just hold it, to give a sympathetic smile, to put his arm around someone. It is a gift.

The photo is fuzzy, I know; it isn't about the quality of light or clarity of focus. These are two people I love so deeply sharing a moment of grief. He is 11; she is 84. My mother sobs as she looks at her brother's life in photos—we have just left his funeral. Duncan walks beside her, then attaches himself to her. He is exactly what she needs at this moment: a quiet hug, human touch, permission to weep.

Someday, he will have a wife, and she will be a well-loved woman. I know. I am married to his father.


  1. Thanks Sarah for giving me your lovely gift of words. You have my thoughts, prayers and all of our love as you travel through this time. Love you.

  2. Beautiful! They may be weeping, but God is smiling.

  3. Great post!
    Following you from Wordless Wednesday.
    Happy blogging!

  4. you are all fortunate to have each other!

  5. That is a lovely picture, and you have a wonderful son.

  6. I love that with their heads and shoulders touching they create a circle. You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers. Hugs, Robin


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