What Means the Most

So we just returned home from Paris. Jim had asked me if I wanted to go take a holiday there. “Let’s go,” I said.  

Travel is healing and Paris is a dream.

When I ask myself who is the person in my life that has meant the most to me; 

I often find that you are the one gave me the most; the one who did not judge; you were not the one to give random advice, or a solution; no simple cures. 

Instead you shared in the pain and touched my wounds with a warm and tender hand. 

You were silent in moments of despair and confusion. 

You stayed with me in my hours of grief and bereavement. 

You were a healing of the soul faced in the reality of hope while I was powerless. 

I think Paris is about that possibility of having a dream that comes true; that’s what makes life more interesting. 

And I think life is more interesting because you are in it; 

I love that. 

2 thoughts on “What Means the Most

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