My sweet friend I feel this. and to help also to save your voice mails. there are several options. I save the files to my computer with an audio program. also if you have cloud storage you can save them there so you can be ok if you lose your phone. I am the queen of Backups. Hope this eases your mind, love and light my friend. oxoxoxox
Thank you my sweet friend! I do have the Cloud (10 billion pictures, remember? ha ha!) and I think? it's turned on for phone messages - but thank you for reminding me. I will check. Sending you much love. Have a safe and peaceful weekend. oxox
Thank you friend. It's a simple message - but we move so quickly in life, don't we? The crash is barely in the news today -- due to the never ending fighting/wars. But at this point - It's a fight for a right to exist. For the future. How many days since 10/7? Ever since I was little I can remember this arms race that even JFK tried to stop. Nuclear is the end of the world. It's crazy stuff. Have a safe and peaceful weekend. oxox
Right? it has been never ending for as long as I can remember. But this time it truly feels like the Lion is at work. I pray peace over all these nations. Happy Sunday. ox
Thank you for sharing this today, in the aftermath of something so unspeakably large. The way you hold space for the weight of sudden loss—without rushing to soften it—landed deeply in me.
I had a near-death experience at 17½.
I wasn’t gravely injured, at least not in the way that leaves visible scars.
Yet I saw the car coming toward us, closer and closer, and I knew—this is it. I was certain I was going to die.
The crash happened in a split second. Somehow, the impact missed my seating place by about two feet. If it had struck just a little further back, I wouldn’t be here.
I survived.
My father didn’t.
I saw him alive for the last time in that car.
They wouldn’t let me visit him in the ICU.
That was 1985.
And then—26 years later—the police walked into my store. I knew what their faces meant before they said a word. My younger brother, 28, had been in a serious car accident. I wasn’t with him. He had been placed in an induced coma with severe head trauma.
He never woke up.
A year later, his girlfriend and partner, my other brother, and I had to decide—resuscitate or not?
We chose to let him go gently.
So when I hear of another mass tragedy, I don’t only see the headlines. I feel the moment after—the silence, the staggering stillness that follows the scream. I know what it means to hold a goodbye you never got to speak. What it means to carry memories as the only proof that someone once breathed beside you.
Grief is strange.
It never really ends.
And still—I’ve chosen to remain open. To let love root itself in me, even when it aches. Your words reminded me: the ache means we remember. That we loved.
And still—I’ve chosen to remain open. To let love root itself in me, even when it aches. Your words reminded me: the ache means we remember. That we loved.
With you in that remembering."
Dear Jay - I'm trying to wipe away tears to write this. I don't really have words to convey such loss so I will sit with it and think of you often - keep you in my prayers, as I do in my way -- to give it over and ask for peace and protection - to also receive peace. I don't know how you have come through it all to this place -- and I am amazed -- yet I feel a deep spiritual connection about you. Some of us are not made for this world and we rise in it because we genuinely love and feel the pain of others. I believe it can make a huge difference for others - to turn pain and anger into vulnerability and love. Sending you nothing but love. Thank you for telling me your story. oxox
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your words stay with me. Like a hand resting gently on the edge of something too heavy to lift alone.
And what you said—about turning pain and anger into vulnerability and love—I felt that land. Not as a task or some spiritual perfection, more as a pulse, a rhythm I return to when nothing else makes sense.
For me, it’s never really been about telling the story. It’s about whether there’s space for the story to be told.
So many of us carry what’s never been spoken because we’ve learned that even when we speak, people turn away. The silence after that kind of turning can be louder than grief itself.
So I’m learning to recognize the real gift: not the telling, but the receiving.
You received my words.
You stayed.
And in doing so, you made space—genuine, unforced space—for a truth that still trembles sometimes in my chest.
Thank you friend. Life is so precious and fragile. And the world and it's arms races never end. So very sad. I pray peace and no nuclear weapons over our world. And all these crash victim's families so very, very sad and grieving. Everywhere. Someone or some creature is suffering. Our focus has to be on love. Wishing you a peaceful weekend. ox
Mine too Grace. It's nothing new - But it's so strange to be living in such crazy times. When my mum speaks of WW2 -- do we ever learn? The suffering, the hate, the arms races - and the good people who stay focused on love. Thank you. Wishing you a safe and peaceful weekend. ox
I can't help think there was something sinister when a lot of people died in a plane disaster. Perhaps its the World were living in.Each individual was loved,a member of someones family, they mattered to someone.l feel sorrow for them .l hope they are in a better place.l am finding it hard to keep my faith.Why God why?
I know - but I think at this point it was a terrible mistake :(. I miss my dad because aviation was his main trade and he would be all over this. At first the expert pilots thought multiple bird hits in the engines - and now it's looking like a co-captain mistake. But at some point it will be figured out. In the meantime - so much sadness and grief :(. and the one miracle that walked way from the crash. Incredible. He will need a lot of prayer and love as he can't unsee what he saw and he lost a brother too, right next to him. ugh. So sad :(. And now the continual race for nuclear war. I am rooting for David in this Goliath. It's all so Biblical. We can only pray. Please have a peaceful weekend and know I think of you and hold you in my prayers Mary. oxox
Thanks Deborah for your words, yes God help the man who survived this horrific crash and l am sure all our people and animals are in with Jesus in a better place . Jesus is our light in this world.God bless you and yours ♥️🙏🕊️.
My sweet friend I feel this. and to help also to save your voice mails. there are several options. I save the files to my computer with an audio program. also if you have cloud storage you can save them there so you can be ok if you lose your phone. I am the queen of Backups. Hope this eases your mind, love and light my friend. oxoxoxox
Thank you my sweet friend! I do have the Cloud (10 billion pictures, remember? ha ha!) and I think? it's turned on for phone messages - but thank you for reminding me. I will check. Sending you much love. Have a safe and peaceful weekend. oxox
Timely and appropriate, Deborah. Thank you for this poignant message. ✨
Thank you friend. It's a simple message - but we move so quickly in life, don't we? The crash is barely in the news today -- due to the never ending fighting/wars. But at this point - It's a fight for a right to exist. For the future. How many days since 10/7? Ever since I was little I can remember this arms race that even JFK tried to stop. Nuclear is the end of the world. It's crazy stuff. Have a safe and peaceful weekend. oxox
I remember the fears in the 1980s. Here we go again. Yes, peaceful lives in our own homes is a start to shifting the balance back towards sanity. xx
Right? it has been never ending for as long as I can remember. But this time it truly feels like the Lion is at work. I pray peace over all these nations. Happy Sunday. ox
And to you 🥰
Deborah—
Thank you for sharing this today, in the aftermath of something so unspeakably large. The way you hold space for the weight of sudden loss—without rushing to soften it—landed deeply in me.
I had a near-death experience at 17½.
I wasn’t gravely injured, at least not in the way that leaves visible scars.
Yet I saw the car coming toward us, closer and closer, and I knew—this is it. I was certain I was going to die.
The crash happened in a split second. Somehow, the impact missed my seating place by about two feet. If it had struck just a little further back, I wouldn’t be here.
I survived.
My father didn’t.
I saw him alive for the last time in that car.
They wouldn’t let me visit him in the ICU.
That was 1985.
And then—26 years later—the police walked into my store. I knew what their faces meant before they said a word. My younger brother, 28, had been in a serious car accident. I wasn’t with him. He had been placed in an induced coma with severe head trauma.
He never woke up.
A year later, his girlfriend and partner, my other brother, and I had to decide—resuscitate or not?
We chose to let him go gently.
So when I hear of another mass tragedy, I don’t only see the headlines. I feel the moment after—the silence, the staggering stillness that follows the scream. I know what it means to hold a goodbye you never got to speak. What it means to carry memories as the only proof that someone once breathed beside you.
Grief is strange.
It never really ends.
And still—I’ve chosen to remain open. To let love root itself in me, even when it aches. Your words reminded me: the ache means we remember. That we loved.
With you in that remembering.
—Jay
"Grief is strange.
It never really ends.
And still—I’ve chosen to remain open. To let love root itself in me, even when it aches. Your words reminded me: the ache means we remember. That we loved.
With you in that remembering."
Dear Jay - I'm trying to wipe away tears to write this. I don't really have words to convey such loss so I will sit with it and think of you often - keep you in my prayers, as I do in my way -- to give it over and ask for peace and protection - to also receive peace. I don't know how you have come through it all to this place -- and I am amazed -- yet I feel a deep spiritual connection about you. Some of us are not made for this world and we rise in it because we genuinely love and feel the pain of others. I believe it can make a huge difference for others - to turn pain and anger into vulnerability and love. Sending you nothing but love. Thank you for telling me your story. oxox
Deborah—
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your words stay with me. Like a hand resting gently on the edge of something too heavy to lift alone.
And what you said—about turning pain and anger into vulnerability and love—I felt that land. Not as a task or some spiritual perfection, more as a pulse, a rhythm I return to when nothing else makes sense.
For me, it’s never really been about telling the story. It’s about whether there’s space for the story to be told.
So many of us carry what’s never been spoken because we’ve learned that even when we speak, people turn away. The silence after that kind of turning can be louder than grief itself.
So I’m learning to recognize the real gift: not the telling, but the receiving.
You received my words.
You stayed.
And in doing so, you made space—genuine, unforced space—for a truth that still trembles sometimes in my chest.
That matters more than I can say.
With deep thanks,
and right here with you in all that remembering—
Jay
Dear Deb, This is so beautifully written and so poignant. A tragedy we will bear in our hearts for a long time.
Thank you mom. It’s all so tragic at times :(
I love you. ox
❤️❤️🙏🏻❤️❤️
Today is the day...
Beautiful and evocative, Deborah. Such compassion pierces through the grief.
Thank you friend. Life is so precious and fragile. And the world and it's arms races never end. So very sad. I pray peace and no nuclear weapons over our world. And all these crash victim's families so very, very sad and grieving. Everywhere. Someone or some creature is suffering. Our focus has to be on love. Wishing you a peaceful weekend. ox
So tragic. My head hurts. My heart hurts. Written beautifully Deborah. 💙
Mine too Grace. It's nothing new - But it's so strange to be living in such crazy times. When my mum speaks of WW2 -- do we ever learn? The suffering, the hate, the arms races - and the good people who stay focused on love. Thank you. Wishing you a safe and peaceful weekend. ox
I can't help think there was something sinister when a lot of people died in a plane disaster. Perhaps its the World were living in.Each individual was loved,a member of someones family, they mattered to someone.l feel sorrow for them .l hope they are in a better place.l am finding it hard to keep my faith.Why God why?
I know - but I think at this point it was a terrible mistake :(. I miss my dad because aviation was his main trade and he would be all over this. At first the expert pilots thought multiple bird hits in the engines - and now it's looking like a co-captain mistake. But at some point it will be figured out. In the meantime - so much sadness and grief :(. and the one miracle that walked way from the crash. Incredible. He will need a lot of prayer and love as he can't unsee what he saw and he lost a brother too, right next to him. ugh. So sad :(. And now the continual race for nuclear war. I am rooting for David in this Goliath. It's all so Biblical. We can only pray. Please have a peaceful weekend and know I think of you and hold you in my prayers Mary. oxox
Thanks Deborah for your words, yes God help the man who survived this horrific crash and l am sure all our people and animals are in with Jesus in a better place . Jesus is our light in this world.God bless you and yours ♥️🙏🕊️.