Dear Grandma,
How are things up in heaven? I hope they are treating you well up there. Have you been watching things down here? It’s been such a mess with our family since you’ve been gone. The family that once stood together has now drifted apart. If you have noticed, no one gets together anymore for gatherings. No one hardly even calls anybody just for a chat or anything. It’s not like when you were around, but we are trying.
Besides that update, I’ve been hanging in there the best I can. Since you last saw me, I’m now married with kids. I’m living on my own now, and I have changed my outlook since surgery five years ago, but I’m still the kind-hearted person you remember. I’ve just had a lot of difficulties in my journeys since then, but I’m trying to stay as strong as possible.
As I mentioned, I have kids now, Grandma. I ended up having two girls, ages 15 and 10, and I also had my first boy, but sadly, he didn’t make the journey. So if you happen to come across him, could you give him a hug for me and let him know that Mommy misses him? I will eventually see him soon. Since then, I added two more stepdaughters after I got remarried; they are 9 and 8. They are so adorable, Grandma! The littlest one adores me to death. She still calls me by my name, but that’s okay. It doesn’t bother me. She loves to play dress-up with me, cover herself in makeup, or just have fun tickling and gobbling each other at times.
By the way, Grandma, if you’ve been watching, can you believe your great-granddaughter is now getting ready for her journey to high school? I wish you had the chance to meet her. She’s been having struggles with her studies and trying to figure out what she wants to do moving forward. But Mom, Dad, and I, even though she doesn’t always make things easy for us, are getting by.
If you’re wondering about your other grandson, I know you were concerned about him. Well, Eddie is doing well. He’s been growing every day and will be turning 39 this year. Can you believe that? He still looks like Dad every day, but he is still the bright, energetic person you remembered. Dad, on the other hand, has been struggling a bit lately, trying to do everything he can for us. But Grandma, I know you’re in our hearts, and there isn’t a moment that goes by that we don’t wish you were back here with us. I know for sure that if you were here, you wouldn’t approve of how everything has been going since you made your trip.
Before I go, I wanted to let you know that even though I don’t speak for the family, I’m sorry that I haven’t had the time to come back and visit you since my last trip. With everything that has been going on here lately, I just haven’t had a way to pull it off. But I hope you are staying safe up there and that they are taking care of you until we are reunited.
I love you, Grandma Allen.
Signed,
Your granddaughter,
Samantha.

A woman sits with a blanket to bear. She sits and sighs, wondering if the depression is ever going to end. She ran out of her medicine and had no way to replace it. Her impacting bubbles escaped her unsettling mind. She couldn’t figure out how to keep everything going around her in check. As the space fills with time, she asks herself many questions and writes down ideas, but the more she tries, the more she feels like everything has been tried and worn out with no one listening and no one wants to find a way to come together to help.

Dear Mental Health,

I wanted to reach out and ask, “Do you exist?” Growing up, I experienced difficulties in school, and I understand that not everyone grasps things right away. But why did you have to bring us the gift of different emotions?

I know that these illnesses, as you refer to them, affect everyone, but do they come in different categories? Are they randomly assigned to each person out there? These are questions I’m eager to understand, but perhaps that’s the mystery, isn’t it? Why are some of us chosen to face these challenges? I never asked for them, and I’ve always wondered if I could have been given different conditions. Perhaps that would have led to a different life for me—who knows?

Thank you for considering my thoughts.

Let it burn in your throat.
The emotions from your heart, rising like a flood, and pushing to the surface,
threatening to break the dam behind your eyes, a release of flowing tears.

But the dam holds, forged of learned silence— a wall built by the hundred times your voice found no echo, no gentle hand to meet its reach.
What’s the use of a flood when the world’s ears are stone, its eyes, a blank stare?

So you let it burn, this defeated truth, a scalding current trapped behind your teeth.
It twists, while your mind raises a quiet question: why does caring cost so much, when it lands on nothing?

And the fallout?
A hollow hum where laughter used to be, a heart that learns to beat softer, to guard its own light, because sharing only dims it.

And so the fire stays, cemented, a constant, private ache— a monument to what was never heard.

A deep current runs, unseen, yet always felt, beneath the calm surface, where dark secrets dwell.
A fading light, a choice once made, the crushing weight of what was, now laid bare for me. A quiet struggle with a shadow’s rise, on a stage where eyes meet the skies. A constant hum of endless need, Questions linger, like seeds to breed. The fragile shield, nearly worn through, a blessing turned to burden’s hue.

Then, a sudden chill in a shared space.
A word like a stone cast into the waters.
The bright colors of belief now muted.
A question hangs, unheard: Is this real?
And so the mind gently retreats, a soft step back, drifting motion, no turning back.
With the body present, moving throughout the day, while consciousness finds its own distant shore a walk to a necessary vanishing, a breath of nothing.

Underneath this skin
lies uncertainty wanting clarity
fear to put one step in front
sabotaging energy
love from own heartbeat
overload of anxieties
overwhelming sensation
of healing clogged pores

Underneath all the wounds
lies beauty in progress
strength in training
courage in action
love in veins
clarity in pores

Oh brain
why must you
feel this pain
I try to heal
the cause root
even when its
been a long commute

why must you
choose to be blue
when it leaves
for an overcast
type of mood

I wish you
would simply calm
when gently rested
on my palm

“Dear Mom”

This is gonna be hard for me mentally and I know you’re still here spiritually, but that doesn’t soften the blow that your no longer here physically
The reality has set in that I will never see you again, but if I’m lucky maybe just catch a glimpse of your reflection
As I stare into the sky, something whispers from behind, but I’ve lost all sense of direction
Just three weeks before you left, you looked me in my eyes, and I’ll never forget what you said, because it’s burned inside my mind, you said “bub, I’m not ready to leave this earth yet.” And I said “mom, please don’t worry.” Cuz the good Lord knows that I can’t make it without you, my future would just be blurry
I need you to know that I had no clue that I was lying, I was trying to lift your spirits and maybe we could both stop crying
I know you loved me to the moon, so I focus on the distance, now I’m sitting here alone, and I’m missing your existence!!

This is a story about a woman who had her daughter taken away from her due to injustices in her life. When her daughter was born, the mother was just starting her journey as a young parent, and she was already experiencing relationship issues with her daughter’s father. She had hoped that having their child would encourage him to act better and be more supportive.

Before finding a new place to live, there was an altercation between her oldest daughter and her husband, which led to court involvement. Initially, this situation required her youngest daughter to be placed with the mother’s parents. After the mother divorced her husband, she was in the process of moving and needed to find a new job to secure custody of her child and provide a better life.

The court mistakenly believed that the mother did not want custody at first. However, the truth was that she was concerned about her financial situation and her ability to provide for her daughter. She felt it was best for her child to stay with her parents or with her father, as the child expressed a desire to be with him, and the mother didn’t want to separate them.

The court kept insisting that the mother should have been more aware of the father’s behavior, even though he had never shown any signs of disrespect toward children. She had shared her experiences with him but had never disrespected him as a father. The court expected her to work and manage her own life while also being present to protect her daughter, which was difficult given her circumstances. Her family was assisting her, yet the court didn’t hold the father accountable for issues in her parents’ home, such as an infestation that made it unlivable for the child.

Now, after all this time, the court has indicated that she can fight to regain custody of her daughter. However, they are demanding that she leave her husband, secure a new home, and meet various requirements to be considered for custody. The mother expressed to her mother that she truly wants her daughter back, but given the current state of her life and her parents’ lives, she believes her daughter does not need to be in that environment.

They all miss her and love her deeply, and the mother knows her daughter is not forgotten. She believes that when her daughter is old enough, if she is still alive and well, her daughter will be able to find her if she wants to establish a relationship.

This is a story about a man who wants to live a simple life without any complications. From what I have observed, he enjoys playing games, watching TV, and getting high from his medication. However, when it comes to taking care of the house or resolving issues, he prefers to do everything his own way. He is unwilling to listen to others’ thoughts or opinions and rarely allows anyone to have a voice.

What doesn’t make sense is that he claims he only wants someone who will work and bring money into the household. It seems he wants everything handed to him without giving anything back in return. He believes that money is the key to making relationships work. Based on what I am reporting, do you think he truly wants to be with someone? In what you read, do you honestly think he really has mental issues, or is he actually happy with what he has chosen? How can you go into determining those struggles when you have them yourself?

You, my sir.
Yes, you.
There’s going to be hard days.
Even easy days.
You, the person reading this,
Has the opportunity to make
The day a great one.

You, my sir.
Yes, you.
Of course it’s going
To be full of ups & downs.
That’s the beauty of life.

It’s your duty as a human
To break the negative branches
And build such glory
From the leftover twigs.

You, my sir.
Yes, you.
I believe in you.
I see you.
I love you.

My story is about a woman who had two kids between the ages of 21 and 25. She had two girls who are now 15 and 10. After she had her second child, she made one of the hardest decisions she now regrets. She decided to have her tubes tied and an ablation done because she knew, deep down, that she couldn’t take care of another child due to personal reasons. Despite her belief that she would never have kids again, seven years later, after getting remarried, she found out she was going to have another baby.

She was shocked when she took two home pregnancy tests. She thought, “How is this possible?” Her doctor had told her that the procedure was supposed to be effective, but after two exams were done, the first test revealed that the procedure, after all this time, hadn’t worked, and the second test revealed that there was indeed a baby. Unfortunately, she ended up miscarrying, and all that was left was the gestational sac. She was only two months along, and even though she didn’t yet know the sex of the baby, she wanted to honor him by imagining him as a boy since her partner also had girls.

She was devastated and decided to create a memorial for him. She made a plaque, had a memory box with angel wings, and a special Christmas ornament with his name and the message “In Loving Memory.” She also chose a tattoo for her arm featuring wings, a golden halo, and blue feet to represent him. Her parents even made her a special present to honor their first grandson. They crafted a family of bears, with the mom bear and each of her cubs. She took it home, wrote each of her babies’ names on it, and gave them a special paint color.

Every year, she takes a moment to honor her son and reflects on what he would have looked like if he had loved his sisters and how big he would have been. Many questions run through her mind: What would he have grown up to be? Who knows?

Hello there sunshines, I am here with some great news you can naturally overcome depression and anxiety. The bible teaches us how to naturally balance the positive and negative emotions in our lives. It’s ok at the darkest moments In Our lives to go to the doctor and get the help needed at that moment, he made doctors for a reason. What’s not okay is to rely on that medication to fix al of your childhood and adult relationship traumas. God has walked me through deliverance and a Beautiful way to enjoy life, focus on self love and hear his voice and tune out the world. Here are some tips on how to live life to the best of your ability on a budget. First find a job that u enjoy not have to show up to everyday ,but want to show up to and take pride in your work daily. Second find an area where just u and God can bear each other’s voices. God showed me and my sister in Christ this past year so many ways to see and appreciate his beauty from door dashing, in multi states ,to visiting museums and botanical gardens, to Learning about plants animals and history and it was a great stress reliever. Everyday for the past year doordash paid for our museum trips ,air b and b , and food and gas as we traveled America. We stayed in the tri state area and everything was within four hours of home.Our daily budget for spending was 20.00 most of the time it ended up under that price range. The third thing God helped me with to not be stressed and depressed was laying all of life’s problems at his feet and he gives us rest as it states in scripture. Picture yourself with one carryon bag then another suitcase and before u know it your carrying the entire planes luggage. This analogy is our lives we tend to worry and fear and pickup baggage that doesn’t belong to us. Cast your cares upon him and he will give u rest Amen. The fourth way to get rid of anxiety and depression is by using sensory things from your environment. This consist of smelling hearing seeing tasting and touching. I find for me nature walks running waterfalls and rivers,coloring on sidewalks with chalk, photographing nature and just being youself in general, traveling to local places, interacting with animals both tame and wild, and social distancing when needed work best. When noises around us are loud and overbearing putting on headphones and listening to something encouraging helps. Get in the habit of finding the daily verse that speaks life and encouragement into your soul and live out your purpose, 💓 u are loved I pray this helps the mass numbers and you can get peace in your hearts and enjoy your life much love and light 🕯️

Dear Lord,

We’ve had a lot of talks lately. Some good, some not so good. I’ve prayed for a couple ambulances and high schoolers and the parents for the infants at my school.

I’ve prayed for less anger, more sleep, less anxiety about the world. For the United States, for Gaza, for Syria and Lebanon and Yemen and the Congo…

For guidance.

I’m not the best of Jews, I know that. I don’t eat kosher like I should, I often forget my nightly prayers, I work on the sabbath. I know I’m not the best.

I try. I fast and I repent and I want to learn more about you Lord. I feel like the older I get, that I feel closer to you. I pray to you in good and in bad times. Our relationship has its valleys and mountains but I know you better. You’ve always known me though.

There’s a lot of suffering in the world. Time is marching backwards underneath my feet and I feel like I cannot make the world stand still. Or continue the original path or rotation. I pray in the hopes that you will be able to guide the right people to the right paths soon. Existence is a form of resistance, right?

Poetry feels a lot like prayer. I take a pen to my carotid artery and bleed all over these little letters, in hopes that it will string together coherent words. Using a young language to spill these feelings that I’m not quite sure have names. I pour it all out, I step back, and realize the feeling is duller now that it’s no longer in me.

That’s what prayer feels like to me.

I don’t know why, Lord, you made me this way. I know there must be a reason, there’s always a reason but I cannot see it. And I want to see it. I know you don’t make mistakes but— why do I feel like I am one?

I don’t feel like a good sister, a good friend, a good daughter, a good lover. I feel like I’m selfish. Spoiled. I demand too much. Give too little. A hypocrite. A liar.

Sometimes I don’t feel human. I’m so angry sometimes, Lord, that I just want to scream!!

Sometimes I just wanna grab someone and slap the living shit out of them. I wanna make someone feel as horrible as I do. I want them to feel every punch, kick, stab, slice, grope and rape that I have experienced. Then I feel horrible for wishing this fate on a nonexistent person and I pray for forgiveness. I know it’s an intrusive thought, I know I’d never do such a thing. But it kills me when I think about it.

There are times that I wanna go into an empty field and just scream into it. Sob as hard as I want for as long as I want. No one to eavesdrop, no one to watch. Just lose it fully for once.

I need that.

I’ve prayed to you about some things that I didn’t mean. I prayed to die many times. I know you know I didn’t mean that, which is why I’m still here.

I’ve prayed why my boyfriend doesn’t love me. I know he does, I just wish I could feel it like I know it. He adores me. He loves me. I need a little help remembering that Lord. If you have the time to spare, I’d greatly appreciate that.

I think- I think I struggle to believe I can be loved. Years of hurt can do that to a person. I try so hard to make sure those I love never feel the way I felt. Unlovable. Broken. No longer human. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a relationship outside of my childhood best friends that made me feel like a person.

When my boyfriend and I started dating it felt like someone had reignited a previously stamped out candle. Now the wick is burning but there’s no wax to cling to. I am so fucking lonely G-d. If you ever have a spare moment, enter my dreams and remind me that I am not alone. Remind me of my partner, my brother, my friends. Remind me of the job I love, the life I’ve chosen, the skills I possess. You’ve got bigger things to worry about than me, but I’d like to not be forgotten. Don’t forget to remember me in that whirlwind of human chaos you’ve come to know.

I know that I just have to grit and bear some of it like a big girl. I know that I have to fight. But I— I don’t have a lot of fight in me right now.

So Lord, if you could do this for me, I’d greatly appreciate it. If you could instill in me the need to fight, the need to claw my way out, I will claw my way out.

Amen,

Dear Ex,

It has been almost five years since I left you. I miss you still. You leave monthly whispers of alimony, and quarterly updates of your life since the abandonment.

I keep feeling that it is all too good for me. I left you in the worst possible way. I professed my love for someone else – someone I could never have, anyway.

I was flippant and psychotic about it, too. I got up and left one day, never to return.

I regret leaving you the way I did. Our marriage was dying a slow death. But I didn’t have to hack at your heart in one fell swoop.

I made you pack my belongings because I couldn’t bear to come back and do the deed myself.

Recently, I had a nightmare that the tables were turned. I was packing your stuff. Only then, did I realize what an impossible task I set you up with.

I stayed for 13 years because I thought the good outweighed the bad. The fun times seemingly overshadowed the screaming matches, the cruel use of semantic language.

You told me I was hard to love, that I was emotionally complex. That was your way of calling me a bitch.

I called you out on it. You confirmed the not-so-cryptic message.

But hey. We both had our unresolved traumas that we brought into our fights. Not even two years of couples therapy near the end of our marriage could foster effective communication skills.

We were both far too wounded to see past ourselves, yet we didn’t know where one of us ended and the other began. The intertwining and untangling happened at the most inopportune times.

You told me during our last quarterly update that you had forgiven me for my transgressions. I asked why, and you said that four-and-a-half years would be a long time to hold onto such emotional turmoil.

I realized then that I had not yet forgiven myself. Now, I listen to the 36-year-old part of me who left. I understand now.

That part of me was doing the best they could. They thought they were being merciful by finally ripping off the bandage and walking out on our eight-year marriage.

It was that moment that I could finally start to forgive myself.

Then, I listened to the 27-year-old part of me – the one simultaneously full of hope and doubt about our upcoming marriage. They whispered to me:

I love her so much. But I’m in too deep.

Had I loved myself then as much as I do now, I would have been merciful and cut the cord right then and there.

I put your happiness above my own.

And now I realize that you weren’t happy either. Not with me. And certainly not with yourself.

We sought love within each other, when we needed to look within ourselves first.

Had we done that, we might have been best friends for 18 years instead of fractured lovers for 13 years and separated souls for another five.

I forgive you, dear ex.

I also forgive myself.

You may not ever be my best friend again, but I will hold our fun times dearly.

Now, as tears well up in my eyes, I contemplate a future of being in a relationship with myself. After all, no other relationship will matter to me nearly so much.

I will probably never get married again, but I wish myself – and YOU – all the happiness in the world, finally.

And maybe soon, we will both achieve inner peace and tell each other all about it in our next quarterly update.

I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
With a restaurant attached.
A salad bar and a buffet,
And a payphone in the back.

The coffee’s always hot,
And the food aint too bad.
I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
So I could talk to my Dad.

He says “I’m flyin over Montana,
just dropped a load of rain.
I’m headed down to Dallas,
And then up to Maine.

No more haulin’ produce,
Gasoline or TVs.
Cause up here in Heaven,
I’m haulin’ prayers and dreams!”

I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
With a restaurant attached.
A salad bar and a buffet,
And a payphone in the back.

The coffee’s always hot,
And the food aint too bad.
I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
So I could talk to my Dad.

“This rigs as big as a mountain,
You can see me from where you are.
It’s no Freightliner, no Peterbilt,
It’s an actual Western Star!

My Jake-brake is the thunder,
The exhaust makes tornadoes!
Man, it means so much more
to be the king of the road,
where the streets are paved with gold!”

I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
With a restaurant attached.
A salad bar and a buffet,
And a payphone in the back.

The coffee’s always hot,
And the food ain’t too bad.
I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
So I could talk to my Dad.

I’d tell him that I miss him,
every single day.
“Wish you could just stop by,
and meet my wife,
when you pass by this way.”

He tells me not to worry,
That one day he’ll meet her.
But if we look up at night,
we can see the lights,
of his 18 wheeler!

I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
With a restaurant attached.
A salad bar and a buffet,
And a payphone in the back.

The coffee’s always hot,
And the food ain’t too bad.
I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
So I could talk to my Dad.

For my husband, who left too soon. For me, who stayed.

We were building something real.
Something messy and beautiful and ours.
Three years of laughs,
Hard talks, late-night plans,
Tears and kisses and silly fights
That ended in bed or in smiles.

You were my safe place.
My soft landing.
My best friend and my storm.

We said forever in March.
Turned keys to our first home in May.
And in July—
You left me
With a silence so loud
It still rings in my bones.

I watched you go.
I screamed.
I begged.
I broke in ways I can’t explain—
Not even to myself.

You didn’t just die.
You tore the sky open,
And I’m still standing in the wreckage,
Barefoot, bleeding, trying to breathe.

People say “you’re so strong.”
No.
I’m not strong.
I’m shattered.
But I wake up anyway.
I make coffee.
I cry quietly in the shower.
I hold our memories like landmines—
Knowing any one of them can level me.

I loved you too much to be okay.
But I also love you enough
To keep going.

Even when it hurts.
Even when I hate you for leaving me.
Even when I ache for just one more touch,
One more laugh,
One more “I’m home.”

You were the love of my life.
The stepfather who adored our kids like they were your own.
The man who made ordinary things feel magical.
You were it for me.

And now I carry all of that
Inside a heart stitched with grief and fire.

I’m still here,
Still breathing,
Still holding the broken pieces
Of everything we were supposed to be.

And I will keep going—
Not because I’m strong,
But because love like ours
Deserves to survive
Even if one of us didn’t.