loss

The love it held

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“How could one space, one building, one yard, one mountainview, hold so much love, truth, forgiveness and conviction?”—Christina Bartel Barkman

When we pulled up the steep driveway of my grandparents’ old house, I was overcome with tears of nostalgia and tears of loss for the love that this space once held.

Learning to let go

Four generations of women at various stages of learning to let go. Pictured from left to right: Margaret Brubacher, Erma Birky, Sophia Heidebrecht and Carmen Brubacher. (Photo by Ray Brubacher)

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End of an era. The author has mixed feelings about letting go of the family stroller that transported her four children: left to right, back row: Nathan, Sophia and Conrad; and Jesse Heidebrecht in the stroller. (Photo by Carmen Brubacher)

It takes me a long time to learn a lesson.

Losing and gaining

September has been a whirlwind of change. It always is. One day we’re enjoying the lazy days of summer, when our mornings are spent park-hopping, lunches are always picnics, and supper is usually topped off with bicycle rides and ice cream cones. Bedtime is flexible, shoes are optional, and everyone goes to bed with dirt and sand under their fingernails. 

And then September comes around and BAM! Everything changes. Preschool starts. Work resumes. Alarm clocks are set and bedtime is enforced. Sometimes if feels like life does a full 180 in September.

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