A Different Lens

It was a careless mistake. A simple turn of an ankle and down I went. Unfortunately, I hadn’t secured the lens cap on my camera and a piece of my history cracked along with the lens.

“Nope, we don’t repair ‘em. Nobody does. Too expensive. They don’t make that model anymore. Gotta buy a new one.”

I was heading out the door and had hoped to catch some fall foliage scenes, but not on this trip. I placed the camera on a side table and there it sat.

It was a busy season.  When I returned, I researched different models. But I was used to the one I had and I bemoaned learning how to use a different one. Technology, and I mean all aspects of technology, is not my native language.

Another week slipped away, and the camera silently called to me when I passed by it. I found the same model being sold second hand, but the closest one was five hours away. Nope. No time for that. A few days later I located a similar camera nearby with a few extra features and brought it home.

That’s when sadness set in. It snuck in at the end of a good day. And I couldn’t anticipate its reoccurrence. So, I picked it up, this sadness, and held it like an heirloom and inspected it carefully.

It wasn’t the loss of the camera; it was the loss of the man who bought it for me in his support of my ‘spreading my wings’ and starting a blog page. It was just one of the ways my husband had encouraged me throughout my writing journey.

Grief. It is silent. Unseen. And oh, so personal.

Somehow it helps to know that you don’t walk through sad places alone. In a room full of people there is bound to be someone else grieving. A listening ear and kindness matters.

Thanks for listening.

Bes blessed and be a blessing.

~ Debbie G

#Grief #KindnessMatters #GriefShare

Romans 12:15