tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587459.post7290385936775541174..comments2008-07-15T11:37:48.360-05:00Lizard Eaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04506056116023122414noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587459.post-69905373050682603152008-07-15T11:37:00.000-05:002008-07-15T11:37:00.000-05:00Twelve years ago I lost a child at birth, or more precisely a few minutes after birth. Love looked like the dozen white roses, with a congratulations card on them, my friend sent to me. Because she HEARD me when I told her there was a part of me that needed to celebrate his life instead of mourn his death. Nobody else got it- He wasn't JUST a sad experience. To this day, white roses bring beautiful memories.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587459.post-36596333578333379162008-07-15T09:05:00.000-05:002008-07-15T09:05:00.000-05:00A friend inviting me over to cook because she knows that will make me feel better about the struggles in my life.Anna Bananahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10824356086811880655noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587459.post-28596663293729429542008-07-14T22:37:00.000-05:002008-07-14T22:37:00.000-05:00Congregants calling me to make sure I'm doing okay after being sick and telling me it's okay to call them in the middle of the night if I need them.ms. kittyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02328027965155428624noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587459.post-24319930579651281492008-07-14T21:38:00.000-05:002008-07-14T21:38:00.000-05:00Brand new, un-asked for pillows from Crash, just because he knows I have been waking up with headaches lately from my old. beaten-up, lumpy pillows. <BR/><BR/>That's love.laurabiddiesinmybrain.typepad.comnoreply@blogger.com