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Not A Dry Eye In The House

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I am back, but not completely. My 2 week hiatus from blogging was due to an unexpected, emergency trip back to Pennsylvania. The traveling alone wreaked havoc on my health, but the cruel insanity I was subjected to has broken my heart. I am not one who cries very easily, having been brought up to fear being given “something to really cry about”, as my mother would put it. In fact, I recall only coming to tears once in the last 20 years and that was when two of our dearest, life-long friends passed away within just weeks of each other. But over the last 6 days, I have made up for a lifetime of being the stoic one, by bawling my eyes out, being choked up, and feeling a huge pit in my stomach double me over. I am lost as to how to come to peace with what happened and at the same time feel like a complete fool for having expected anything different.

Once again, I know I have been going on about something that I’ve been very vague about, but I am lost for the right words so figure it’s best to stay silent. While I’m still feeling quite sad now, I am so grateful and blessed to have such a wonderful, loving, supportive Hubby and Son, and so many great friends to come home to. I promise y’all that I will get passed this and be back to my usual cheery, optimistic self and will do my darndest to not let you down.

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My Broken Heart

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Crying 5

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2 thoughts on “Not A Dry Eye In The House

  1. Leslie, I do understand you not blogging about this in public, but please, wrute me an email, I really would like to talk to you…me being the over emotional latin, I usually have lots of words for moments like this and sometimes takking to someone outside your support network can help heaps (it has helped me in more than you can imagine) HUgggzzz

  2. Dear Leslie,
    I’m sorry your heart is heavy with sadness. Do not worry yourself one bit about letting anyone down. You are a gift to us, just as you are.

    I came to your blog today in tears, and what do I find? With more than tears, I arrived with my guts feeling torn apart. Unlike you, I’ve cried oceans of tears in my time and am used to that part. Even though I’m familiar with the experience and act of crying, the hurting doesn’t seem to get any easier. I wish we lived closer. I’d come over with some nice pastries, chocolate, and I’m thinking good coffee and we could sit and talk.

    I’m thinking of you and hoping your heart and mind will soon calm. Maybe the crying is like a storm that leaves behind crystal clear blue skies with patches of white fluffy clouds.

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