Mountains of Love

Many of us have specific days, weeks, or months each year, which commemorate a life, a death, an event in our lives, which each year catch our hearts, our breath, our thoughts, and makes life tough to get through for that day, week, month.  After much time, many years maybe, these days get a little easier to get through, yes, sometimes we can even carry on with just the vague remembrance pushed to the back of our minds.  But do our hearts ever forget that day, week, month, completely? No.

But, yes, we can get to a point where these days, weeks, months bring mostly a fond remembrance, a sweet tug at our heart, a quiet but nice time of reflection on what used to be.

Beginning today, July 6th, begins a day and a week such as this for my family.  It was a July 6th that my children’s Daddy, Tommy Joe Pruett, died when he ran his pick-up truck off the road and crashed.  Because he was a Purple Heart Decorated Vietnam Veteran, with subsequent, sometimes severe PTSD, the days after his crash were filled with questions on how/why he ran off that road.  No real answers ever came.  And after much deliberation and grief, the family decided to wait and bury him on July 11th, which was my son’s, Tommy Joe Pruett II, birthday – my son who died in a tragic school bus accident some years previously.  In our minds, this would be sort of a birthday present to my son in Heaven, to officially give his Daddy back to him on his birthday.

This was the one little scrap of joy we could pull out of the desperately sad situation, to place in our desperately hurting hearts, to help us cope.

                Looking back on that time, 13 years ago, I see the grief filled eyes, I feel the numbing pain of disbelief – yes – BUT – I also see the LOVE; the mountains of love between a family and the lifetime of friends, gathered to mourn, but also to love – to love the grieving hearts through the difficult days.  I see the love of a family for their beloved son, husband, father.

Today, and this week, I choose to remember that love– that beautiful love of a family, of a community, of a life I once lived – and loved.  I choose not to remember the questions, the discrepancies, the disagreements and turmoil.  I will remember the Pruett Family with love and gratefulness for the years they held me in love, within their family.  And though this week I will grieve with them, for 2 beloved family members, I will also rejoice with them in the time God gave me – us – with my first husband, Tommy, and my son, Tommy II.

Yes, this week I wrap myself up in the

 Mountains of Love ❤


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