Good morning.

God morning to you.

A long time listener wrote to me yesterday about the grief of losing his dear mother.

He remembered my story about my grandmother and wanted some words to point him back to peace.

This is what I wrote him.

I'm very sorry to hear this.

And yes, waves of grief washed over me frequently during that time.

And just as we can't stop the waves on the beach, we don't even try to stop the waves of grief that come.

We let them wash us, wash over us.

We feel the tears swell and that lump in the throat, and at times,

you'll notice these symptoms don't even come with a thought or a memory, just inner weather,

because this is what is, and at times you'll notice that even in the throes of the waves,

in the deepest grief, there's a love that doesn't leave, that the grief is

made of love. There's a joy, no matter how quiet or small, that doesn't go out the back door,

even though grief bursts in the front and through every window. That love is the only thing that

helped me then. It was my anchor.

And it was in that moment as she took her last breath that I knew I had to teach everyone how to

find this and quickly. In that moment, and this may help you, I personified the love. I made it her,

her hand. I knew that if she had returned, I wouldn't take my

eye off of her and I wouldn't let go of her hand. I saw her transition as a way to pull me further

into the love. And so I took love by the hand and have only let go on occasion, only to find that

it never lets go of me. Your dear mother is with you fully, even more

...