Affliction of a decade


I sat at the window staring into nothing, my mind blank; feeling overwhelmed and raw. The phone rings, it is the doctor from Children’s hospital, he tells me we must meet immediately, they have discovered new information regarding my baby girl in the pediatric unit after some more testing was done. I feel anger build inside of me, I never agreed to any testing! After all it was all I could focus on, not the possible information he suddenly knew. I said we would drive down shortly and hung up.

The ache of unknown filled me with dread. As many other days I got up and proceeded through motions of necessity with out really thinking about what I was doing. I arranged for a friend to pick up my oldest from kindergarten and my one in preschool not worrying about what they will do, think or eat, like I obsessed over many times, like I guilt over in the after. Steve and I got in the car and drove the hour to the main childrens hospital, the one no parent ever wants to frequent.

We saw our daughter, so slight in her big hospital bed, dried blood on her head and arms, from trying to access a vain the nurse tells me, again I am angered, why could you, did you not wipe it clean? I wanted to scream at these people, these nurses who were seemingly unbothered, who carried on conversations around us about their daily insignificant happenings of their lives. The doctor was told we were there and within minutes we were ushered into a meeting room. This is an odd feeling, most, if not everytime you wait, and wait, and not this time, this is how you know, the anguish and anxiety settles inside you beside the unknown fear that you cant shake.

Her trachea is 1/8 the size of a normal trachea, it is why we always have trouble intubating her, she has multiple rare and a few common holes in her heart, he says all this very matter of factly. We though it was just brain stem damage from birth but it seems she will never live a normal life. I am staring a the table in front of me unable to process my thoughts and feelings, suddenly worried and fearful about my boys who are not with me who wont know why I sent someone else to pick them up. I am filled with helplessness. He is still talking but I am not listening, I tune in as he is saying he will perform the multiple surgeries to attempt to fix these problems but the risk of survival for a healthy baby was slim, and well, she was not a healthy baby. and those words tore straight through my heart, I made a broken baby. It was all my fault.

He would give her a tracheotomy to help her breathe. That in turn would mean she would never, eat, drink or talk. She did already have a feeding tube, which was good, one less surgery, was he making a joke? The irritation I was constantly feeling at the staff here because for them this was another sick or dying baby/child and another day at work that they seemingly were unscathed by any of it and if they were they never showed it.

The damage was done, these moments, these last 57 days of driving back and forth from the hospital, the trauma it produced unknowingly inside my head, to be terrorized by in the after. Waking up from night terrors, feeling confused and unsure of my surroundings and constantly scared as to where my kids were. Sometimes I would dream she was laying beside me and I crushed her. The look of her lifeless body on my living room floor, steves scream for my help because she wasn’t breathing, trying to resuscitate in a state of panic and horror. All of these things caused conflict inside myself. As friends often said in the after I was changed. I rarely smiled, spoke little, and became recluse.

This was ten years , almost ten years ago. It would be Lilys 10th birthday this December 30th and this coming February 18th 2022 will be a decade since this day I described above The day we were asked to make the worst decision of our lives.. We signed the DNR, held our little baby girl as they took all the tubes off and sat in silence as she faded away. The shock of what was happening was like dark sunglasses plastered to my face and I could not remove. They have faded, subtly over this past decade but the affliction of the cause will always be there.

Thank you for reading,

For 10 years these thoughts, happenings and memories have haunted me. I’ve tried many times in different spaces to express them, to let them out. This morning at 430 I woke up and words ran through my head, inescapable. I got up and wrote this. I feel incredibly relieved that I was finally able to put my torment into words, and let it out and let it go. 💜




This image is from a commercial about insurance? Not babies, but this .5 sec shot caught me, froze me. Sets a series of thoughts, emotions and highlights the post traumatic stress that squeezed my heart in that moment.

I remember her foot in my hand. Her tiny sweet itty bitty foot…

The molds the hospital made for us of our beautiful girls feet and hand. With her purple toque that still has her blood stain.

Her first week home after 1 month in the hospital.
In 8 days, it will be the 9th deathversary of my sweet girl, my first daughter, my third child, my sons first sister. I always wonder, who she’d be today.

It will be the 9th time, I re live your death, those last few hours, days, moments with you. This photo below just 2 days before you went back to the hospital. We had so much hope that morning, so much love. Gone 8 days later on February 18 2012.

Will they ever know how this changed them. As they anticipated their sister but suddenly lost their mother, no warning, no reason, but she was gone, at the hospital for a month. Happy now both mom and sister home. Not knowing what was to come in the next weeks and how the next few years are affected and will change their upbringing. My heart breaks for my boys when I remember the before. And acknowledge the after.

Thanks for reading,


The absent Birthday



Lost:  disappeared, forfeited, mislaid, misplaced, missed, missing, strayed, vanished, wayward, abolished, annihilated, demolished, destroyed, devastated, eradicated, exterminated, obliterated, perished, ruined, wasted, wiped out, wrecked, absent, absorbed, abstracted, distracted, dreamy, engrossed, entranced, preoccupied, rapt, spellbound, taken up, adrift, astray, at sea, disoriented, off-course, off-track,   bygone, dead, extinct, forgotten, gone, lapsed, obsolete, out-of-date, past, unremembered  


The words above, the  many synonyms for the feeling of being lost, mentally, physically, emotionally; lost.

Not in everyday life however, not anymore. I will concede that the terrible raw heartache that follows a death does ease over time, though I will not agree that ‘time heals all’ because that is a relative saying. Relative to the events that occurred to cause your grief. But the pain does subside, the confusion and frustration do ease. The longing pops in and out unannounced and at times you feel overwhelmed again. The missing never goes away. But it does get easier.

Having said that, there will always be times throughout the year that are hard, that I/we feel lost. A moment of reflection triggered by a memory. A dream that causes confusion for a short time upon awaking, a place that reminds you of that feeling of devastation, even if for a second. It is there buried in the memory, the past.

I should/ would be in a flurry of busy today and the days leading up to tomorrow. Days leading up to a child’s birthday tend to be filled with excitement and planning. making a cake, putting up decorations, easing the enthusiasm at bedtime for the upcoming event.

Instead, a fog rolls in filled with desolation, the feeling of feeling lost settles. What to do today; nothing, says my body and mind. Do we make a huge extravagance at our loss, over and over, year after year while most secretly wonder why are they not over it…

Do we pretend it is just another day, that  would inevitably bring feelings of guilt and shame that are in themselves hard to live with just to avoid others un-comfortableness.

Should we remember in silence to avoid unease, sometimes anything can feel like too much but nothing also feels wrong.


Happy Birthday my angel

Lily Emma Olive Hall

I miss you

I live for you

I will love you

I will remember you

 Everyday until I die




Thanks for reading,



Moving on from grief; my journey to accepting acceptance


Moving on from grief; my journey to accepting acceptance

As I walked into my house late, arriving home just before midnight after a long ten hour travel day, carrying my youngest to her bed, whose birthday happens to be the following day, a quiet stress in the back of my mind as I have nothing planned. She wakes in and out of sleep as I place her down asking to watch the Trolls movie before bed , as I shush her that its very late and to go back to sleep. I walk past Lily’s photo that sits outside what was Lily’s room but is now Hopes.

I pause for a moment, as a tiny quiver of shock goes through me, why did I enjoy this trip so much? For so long, five years to be exact I cannot remember really enjoying anything, not fully, not appreciating what or where it was we were, we have gone to Hawaii twice and Mexico once since she died, I “enjoyed” those family trips, but if I am honest, I was never happy during them, not as I felt during this trip. Was it not having thought about her as much? No, that’s ridiculous, of course I thought of her, but perhaps the veil has lifted, maybe the dark clouds that I felt attached to my heart lessened their grip. She is always in my heart but during this trip it was not like it is when I am at home surrounded by her memory, her presence, our loss.

Having just returned from an incredibly satisfying family trip, one that was to be underestimated but had over returned; that was fully dreaded, line ups, fast food, adults in costume, ugh, Disneyland. But we planned to see lots of other parts of California as well. Who knew the republic that is the state of California is so beautiful; San Clemente pier, Huntington Beach, Pasadena Ranch, even LA and Anaheim were cool to drive through, which started my pondering……

Guilt approaches my thoughts, but I quickly realize, no, that is not right; I deserve a reprieve from my self-imposed guilt. I am proud for the hard treacherous journey my grief has taken me through, what I have learned, how I have changed and grown. I am happy I was able to enjoy such a memorable family trip with my still living children, to be present for the first time in….well, how long makes me sad for them, my beautiful children that are alive, the ones that have received less of their mother because she has been stuck in a whirlwind of her grief.

The one that has yelled too quickly because of their interrupting, poorly timed ways, their normalness, brought noise into my grief, where I wanted so much to simply be alone in silence. I have loved them, fed them, clothes and cleaned them, yes. But the mom that used to wrestle and laugh so freely has been trapped in a broken heart. That realization alone makes me sad for them, for me. I needed my time, I cannot believe five years past in a fog, although, it was thickest the first few years, it is lifted seemingly, I think. I am sure it will roll in from time to time and I welcome it, but I am also happy to feel happy again. I am happy to have a random dance party with loud noise at no notice with my kids. If asked, I wonder what they’d say of the last five years. Probably not much, as we all know, we are all way more self centered then we see. They may not have even noticed my withdrawal, not as I felt it, or see in hindsight. I was harder on them and they loved me more.

My heart now an ache for the time that has past, five years in a child’s life is huge, and the physical, emotional and mental growth that happens. I cannot go back; I can cherish specific moments of course, but am happy to feel other enlightening emotions again. Happy to be the present mother they deserve. I still miss and love my child that died five years ago, but my acceptance of her death has come with the revelation that I cannot change the past, nor need to dwell in its circumstances. But do need to focus on what we had and still have. This by no means that she will be forgotten just remembered differently, without the pain of guilt and remorse; but with love for the luck of having had her for a moment, along with the life lessons she has taught.

It brought me to a conclusion, if only for myself. We are all aware, some mildly, some very familiar with Elizabeth Kubler Ross’s five stages of grief. At some point in raw grief after a loss, we want answers we want to understand what is happening; at times we are so lost we want to know if and when it will end. So Ross’s theory of five stages is where we inevitably find ourselves reading about. At first I agreed with them whole heartedly, it makes sense for grief to have a timeframe of stages, all of which also make sense in completing in order to “move on”, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance but what comes with these stages is not a time frame put on them by Kubler-Ross herself but by society, Somewhere, over time, since her now famous book called ‘On Death and Dying’ was published in 1969, society has given the grieving about a year to get through their stages of grief, a few months to mull in each one.

This is where I completely disagree with societies standards on grieving, seeing as it has taken me a five full years to get to acceptance, one could say each stage deserves a full year to fully live in and become aware of the stage your are at. For example the first year I was trapped in denial not even aware I was, because it was the shock that took quite a while to wear off, then a denial that I could not really comprehend that this had happened to me, to her, to us. I honestly did not believe it for a very, very long time, combined with the night terrors caused by the PTSD I suffered, it felt like a dream at times, with me not being able to wake up. Then the anger came, but it came at a time when a lot of people thought I should have been done grieving, after a year. And yes, I was angry, at everyone and anyone that dare mention her name, or their grief! The bargaining came in different forms around year three, begging for bad things to not happen, hadn’t I gone through enough? I would do more to help others if only my living children would be left alone. As depression sets in due to the length of time that has passed, you feel confused, others wonder what’s’ wrong because it has been so long, although in reality, is four years that long?

So you begin, again, searching for answers, or help, or ways to move forward because you have spent time in the other stages you are ready to deal with this depression, and not that long ago, as I said earlier, the trip I just took with my family was the first I really enjoyed, felt at peace and allowed myself to be happy. Had I reached acceptance? And if I had why did I feel bad about it? Did I assume I would grieve forever? Yes. Was I prepared to grieve forever? Yes. Often when the tears came less frequently just that fact made me sad, like the further away her life moved, the less I felt her in my heart, but that is not true. I can take as many moments I want to remember her and should be thankful the whirlwind does not just snatch me up as it used to, but it is a process of constant awareness, as well as, allowing myself to still grieve if I felt the need, but also to feel happy with what we have and where we are at, without guilt.

Everyone’s journey is different but I think if we can all collectively agree that each stage deserves a year and not to expect someone to feel normal until year five the burden of grief will be lessened on the grievers. But also to so mention it is not limited to this time frame, I have met parents that did not feel “normal” until year seven and ten, what I am trying to say is that the notion that grief lasts a year is ridiculous, the notion that it never ends is also silly though, I once believed it would never end, and I still have moments of intense sadness, clearly not as frequent or uncontrollable but today five years later and I am able to laugh freely without shame, enjoy moments without guilt. I am not saying yours will only last five years, everyone’s journey is different and some grief may only last a couple years. All I know is that back in those first six months when I attended bereavement meetings a blubbering mess barely able to string coherent words together, the common sentiment to me from those that had multiple years, some decades behind them and their grief, they said, ‘it does get better’ and I was so comforted by that phrase. And the fact that they saw my pain and came up to me to tell me it gets better in hopes of lessening my pain. I appreciated those words, as I hope you appreciate mine now. It does get better, in your own time at your own pace.

Thanks for reading,


Ps, I would love some feedback, I started out intending to write a completely different post about my vacation without my fourth child but in following my heart and letting my fingers type, I am surprised at the conclusion and turn it took. If you have a similar experience with grief or writing or any other feedback on my conclusion please comment below. Thanks – much love.

It is ok to be sad


I feel you rolling your eyes, as I hit post. Another grief post you think! Your pain is no longer because it wasn’t your child you lost, it was mine, so you did feel sad for a bit after, you don’t understand how or why I am still grieving or posting sad stuff about grief. I get it its not your loss, you don’t feel it every day like I do and you don’t want to remember it  as much as I do. You might think I am bitter or want sympathy, I don’t. Just know that my heart hurts when I glance at the spot on the floor where she stopped breathing, that I have trouble thinking of moving because this is where she lived for 2 short weeks. Every time I hear a story of tragedy or a life lost I cry for her. Am I stuck? no I am human. I am a mother that gave birth to a beautiful baby that struggled to live, to breathe, that spent 5 weeks in the NICU, not sleeping, not feeling and slowly breaking. That was almost four years ago I know, you think I must have moved past this pain, I have another little girl right. She is my savior, yes. but also my daily reminder of my first little girl that is not here. Would they be best friends? or Would they fight a lot?  I wonder. And yes that too makes me sad. Immediate grief after a tragedy is overwhelming, its consuming and then time takes it away, little by little the intense memories fade and it is easier to ‘pretend’ life is what it is.

Today is October 15th- International Awareness of Stillbirth, miscarriage and infant loss

A day that makes me sad but grateful to have met and to be a part of a community of women, amazing women, that too have suffered a loss, something that is not openly spoken about but should be, something that people are uncomfortable to bring up, leaving the person(s) that suffered the loss alone. Why are we told not to share a pregnancy until 3 months? in case you lose the baby right, we don’t need to upset people like that! but then we suffer alone with our loss. Not right. After I lost my daughter, after she was born at full term, after she was given a birth certificate because she lived past 21 days (the time the government thinks your baby needs to live to be considered a human!) even though we all know as soon as we see that pink or blue line we have a child in our life, whether they live past 21 days or not, to be deemed a person! Different issue, I move on. The stigma that surrounds uncomfortable feelings needs to stop. People need compassion not shame. I don’t know how to change the world into thinking its ok to be sad, we do not need to ‘pretend’ to be happy all the time. As Buddha says ‘Life is suffering’ I believe we have pockets of happy moments or happy feelings but if you truly look at the world and live true, you see that it is about surviving, surviving tragedy around us, surviving, genocide, rape, famine , disease, homelessness, joblessness, then death. Acknowledging life’s struggles does not make us ‘negative’ it makes us real and if you let yourself feel the sad you will better be able to appreciate the happy.

After I lost my daughter, so many women came up to me and told me about their losses, a women lost her son when he was 21, another suffered multiple miscarriages’ but never told anyone, so many stories, so many women that suffered alone because society made them feel like they had to hide their shame because it wasn’t ‘happy news’ I call bollocks! I will continue to share my grief and encourage others to share because we are here for such a short time, all we have is each other. To help, to love, to pick each other up and hug.


Thanks for reading.


The End or… The Beginning

Not all things that end are over, as nothing really ends, words, emotions, actions, events, live in our thoughts forever

Not all things that die are dead, a relationship, a love, a venture, sometimes they just end

Not all things finished are truly complete, as with growth there is always more to tweak

We know when our time is complete however, in a feeling, an instinct, a sign

Does that always mean it is over, that this must die? is, the end?

Are we ever really satisfied with an outcome, a day, a moment of expectation perhaps overthought

What if we were wrong, what if it is not over, done, dead, the end?

How do you ever know when to quit, when to say you are finished, when you have given your all, when you have had enough

To move on without regret, with hope to look back in fondness, not pain, that wonder does not haunt the rest of your stay, but beautiful memories light the way

How do we know when it is time to say goodbye, is the time ever right, are we ever not afraid of the unknown, can we leave our worries behind in the end…

My thoughts for this poem

Life throws us many curveballs, we dodge, we swerve but some hit us straight in the face, and how we choose to face life’s events that are not always easy is how we grow and live. We learn to live with our choice in hopes we thoroughly thought them through. We accept out outcomes and chose to keep going. Uncertainty is inevitable, so we breathe, we chose to be grateful for what is left and continue after things end.

Thanks for reading,


Grief resources; we all could use a little help.

Coping with Grief and Loss

a few links that I found helpful.

Go easy,


Affliction of a decade

You wake up assuming the day will be like all others, but on this day 10 years ago I went to bed a different person, having had to let my 51 day old baby go, having to watch my almost 3 & 5 year old say goodbye to the little sister they were anxiously awaiting for 10 months. Walking out of a hospital I had come to know so well I could navigate it with my eyes closed. 10 years ago I drove to the hospital like every other day but on this day I got some irreversible news, news that left me with a choice no parent should need to make. Every day we wake up thinking just another day. But little do we know what is ahead for us.

So Live.

Take the extra 5 mins in the shower, pet your dog a bit longer, kiss your spouse or kids or if you’re lucky enough to your parents or grandparents twice! Say I love you. Live today knowing what you thought to be may be different at days end.

With honor I remember my daughter Lily Emma Olive Hall Today.

Thank you for reading,


Taking a break, for me.

Today is day 1 of my 4 week leave of absence from work. I took it for multiple reasons, mainly my mental health. But also largely to step back and focus for a moment.

My dad, who I haven’t seen since Thanksgiving 2019 as he was placed in a care home on the Island right before Covid started. In the last 2 years he has progressed rapidly in his dementia, possibly in the final stage now as he cannot walk, talk, eat or chew. He was still doing all that when I last saw him just over 2 years ago. So fingers crossed ferries don’t get cancelled and I pass the rapid test at the door tomorrow I will get to see him for in my heart I know may be the last time.

In a few weeks it will be the 10th time Lily will die in my arms, mind and heart all over again and with that distance in time the mind is incredibly fogged. Lastly, my family, my kids miss their mom to no guilty end and Steve and I have struggled with our marriage because of him working from home and having being tasked with the kids more.

All of these have strained on my mental health and well being.Is this timing well thought out economically? No. But we get this one life, money comes and goes. I lived off nothing before, I am not scared of being poor.Most of the time we have what we need even if not what we want. I choose not to worry about that but instead all the needs of those around me who need me, including myself.

🙏💙See you in a few weeks.

My 4 beautiful kids
My daddy.

thank you for reading.

Rest in peace and Power Thich Nhat Hanh

10 years of Hindsight

Hind¡sight; understanding of a situation or event only after it has happened or developed. “with hindsight, I should never have gone”

10 years ago today was my due date for my third child.

Though if you ask me it was two weeks earlier according to my knowledge of my body and what my last cycle was, not according to an ultrasound that this date was based on.

10 years ago I should have advocated better for myself and my unborn baby who was ready and needed to come out. I should have demanded to be induced or asked for a c- section.

10 years ago I cried constantly, daily, hourly, knowing that something did not feel right. Deep inside my being something was wrong but instead of following my instinct I trusted the doctor and did nothing.

10 years ago today was my due date. A day that was supposed to be filled with excited energy and expectations. Not the dread that I woke up with.

10 years ago this week my daughter turned inside my stomach for the last time, she flipped herself to be feet first or breach as it’s known as. What we didn’t know was that she was actually folded in half, that what the doctor felt and thought was her head at my appointment later today was actually her bum. Had he (the doctor) realized what he was touching like the nurse did a week from now I would have been induced or more likely given an emergency c section.

10 years ago this coming week my daughter was not receiving the nutrients she needed from my placenta anymore. In the coming week she’d lose .4 of a pound, a warning sign that went disregarded.

10 years ago this week I was the most anxious and scared for what or why, I didn’t know yet.

In hindsight, I should have said she wasn’t moving enough, in hindsight I should have said something felt very wrong, in hindsight I should have argued about my due date being inaccurate, that she needed to come out. In hindsight I would have asked more questions and demanded more answers.

Thanks for reading,



A poem about grief…

By Sheri Hall

If I could build a time machine to take me far away

I’d visit not a place or time; just a moment from one day

A chance to hold your head and hands even if I had to feel the pain again

If I could build a time machine to take me back to you, if only for a minute, that is what I would do

To stare into your eyes, memorize the feeling, hold your head in my hand until we fell asleep again

If I could build a time machine I would go ten years back, you would be safe in my tummy future still intact

if I could build a time machine, I would re do almost every moment, make them leave me alone with you and be even more impatient

If I could build a time machine I would give myself more grace and know that I had no choice or say in the last time I saw your face

If I could build a time machine I would give a proper goodbye knowing it was the last time I would ever see your eyes

If I could build a time machine, I would go back and know I could change nothing, but re live the moment I had with you and cherish it once again.

Thanks for reading,

Sheri Hall

This poem is written for my daughter Lily, for what would be her 10th birthday this December, in honor of her life and my grief; I share.

October 15 #PregnancyAndInfantLossAwareness

15% out of 100 pregnancies end in miscarriage.
1/160 stillbirths, estimated at 1.9 babies born still globally each year.
SIDS has declined dramatically since the 90s but still equates to roughly .3% of infant deaths annually.
Globally 2.4 million children died in the first month of life in 2019.
Death under 1year of age is 17/1000 and typically caused by birth defects.

The point of these stats is not to make you sad. But many do not realize how common this loss is, how many parents and would be parents are suffering in silence because this grief, these deaths are taboo subjects.

Below are two places that do research and help support education and families who have suffered these insurmountable losses.

Dealing With My Grief


I-remember-with-you-meme-707x70710 Ways to Honor Your Friend’s Child That Died This October

Do you have a friend whose baby died? Maybe she took a healthy baby home and months later her son died tragically of SIDS. Or maybe he never got to meet his baby awake outside of the womb because his daughter was stillborn. Maybe you have a friend who suffered a miscarriage more than once but once is enough pain to endure. Maybe you have a friend whose toddler, school age, or teenager tragically died.

****If you do know someone who has been shaken to their core by the loss of their child, no matter what age, please take a moment and honor your friend and her or his child by remembering them this October for Pregnancy, Infant, and Child Loss Awareness Month.
I know, right now you might be saying to yourself, “Okay, yeah I have a bereaved…

View original post 1,005 more words

A little help from above

I run the Houston Trail on my days off, after the run I walk down to the river to stretch. It is always an emotional feeling staring at the fast and strong moving Fraser River in all its full Fall glory. I love it. Its my me moment I would never give up. Anyway, today I ran with my glasses on, I hate to because they slide down the bridge of my nose as I start to sweat and near the end of the run I inevitably carry them in my hands.

Today I put them in my hoodie pocket with my keys as I lifted my sweater over my head at the end of the run. I was at my car getting water before I go stretch. I walked down, walked back without paying attention to the fact that my vision was blurred, got in my car, turned the engine, looked around and thought – shit my glasses, I reached into my pocket and to my disbelief they were not there. I frantically searched my surroundings, jumping ahead to how am I going to get home, I guess I can walk there and back and get my spare before pick up at 230…maybe I can call the police for an escort- no that’s ridiculous but I thought it.

Of course my husband who has been working from home for 20 months is on Vancouver Island for work this week for the first time in did I mention it’s been 20 months… thanks to covid.

So I kept re checking my pockets, am I going crazy, I retrace my steps, a man even asks kindly what are you looking for? I have almost given up, thinking I will drive to the end of this road and walk home… I see a squirrel about 7 feet away, comes down the tree in behind of my car toward the road, I hear a car coming from behind us so I walk toward it hoping to scare it from crossing, it darts back up the tree, I go in the direction the squirrel did and what do you know- right there on the ground were the little bugger stopped were my glasses.

I of course loudly said thank you to the squirrel and was able to drive home and start the zillion errands and cleanings that needs to be done on my only day off.

Here’s to the things big and small of the world!! Sent to help us when we least expect it.

This beautiful little wood pecker has been coming to visit when I sit on my front drive to rest and recharge after long busy days. Sit in my chair, staring at the sky. I heard his voice and wondered what it was, I looked around and there he was a few feet away.

The beauty in nature and its creatures can feel so healing in a way that we are able to look at things outside ourselves, appreciate the beauty in simplicity and are reminded that we are never alone.

Thanks for reading,

Go outside and enjoy the nature around you.