I'm very fortunate that I have a wonderful family around me and loved ones.

Weekend is pointless unless you spend it with your loved ones...

The dead leave their shadows, an echo of the space within which once they lived. They haunt us, never fading or growing older as we do. The loss we grieve is not just their futures but our own.

I've decided that there isn't much difference in the way we treat our siblings and the way we treat our special someones. But at the end of it all we know our siblings have to forgive us...or they'll never be able to borrow our car.

God gives us enemies so we will appreciate those who love us.

Had any poet adequately described the wretched ugliness of a loved one turned inside out with grief?