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Thanks. Needed this today. A younger member of our family passed one month ago today in a car accident. RIP RJSK. I valued hearing about harder times, those moments life throws us off, and the steps, baby or otherwise, to use to gently, gently reset. May you all be well and brimming in art supplies and Love.

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So sorry to hear of your family’s loss, Jo. May they rest in peace 🤍 be gentle with and tender towards yourself during this time!

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Jo, here is where I find hope and comfort: the ripples in spacetime called gravitational waves. According to theoretical physicist Carlo Rovelli, time is an illusion: our naive perception of its flow doesn't correspond to "physical reality." We existed since the Big Bang, then we had a physical presence for a bit and then we move on to exist in a ripple in spacetime. This "existence" is a mere ripple in spacetime. Our loved ones exist; our minds can't comprehend how. The possibilities are endless, in all directions...

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All directions, yes.

A ripple in spacetime.

I appreciate you reaching out and articulating some ways to hold this time.

Jo

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Great ideas for any career.

“…who thought love only equaled words of affirmation and touch while ignoring their many selfless actions as immigrant parents…”

My parents were 1st generation; I doubt they felt love through words of affirmation and touch from their immigrant parents. The love was expressed in overcoming all the obstacles facing immigrants, establishing a foothold and surviving; which was exhausting. My parents continued that struggle, as both had needed jobs as we lived paycheck to paycheck, while they emphasized college for their two sons. Mom always expressed love; it was in her smile and concern for us. Dad worked a physical job and was like the dads of his era as far as demonstrating his love in words; but his pride in his 2 sons shown through.

This memory is all the “affirmation and touch” that I ever needed: Dad rotated between being laid-off or being on-strike, so our financial situation was never stable. Dad was on strike one harsh winter when I was in 7th grade and he found work in the Street Department, digging ditches to uncover burst water lines. Those jobs were available because no one wanted them. Have you ever dug a ditch?

So I’m sitting in the kitchen before school and Dad is bundling up in layers of old coats and sweatshirts and I see him tying a rag around his forearm and then looping it around his shovel; he had hurt his wrist the day before and could not make a fist with his left hand, in order to grip the shovel. So, he used the rag tied his forearm to provide leverage so he could shovel with only one functioning hand. Then he was out the door into the cold.

The “touch” of that shovel to his arm was more affirmation of love than any hug or embrace could ever transmit. Like you, Carolyn, I was a moody music loving teen at the time, caring only for myself and my teen friends and ignoring my parents; BUT I could not ignore that watershed event.

I SMH because I’m sure my parents, and their parents would have much preferred hugging their children and expressing their love if life would have allowed such luxuries.

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Such a vivid memory of the rag, and proof of the love and protection of your parents to provide a stable and secure life for you! Thanks for sharing JRB!

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Love these little ideas 🫶🫶🫶

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Hope you try them out Teresa! Thank you!

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Great ideas ! I love this article

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What lovely ways to tend to your inner artist!! I love this pairing of love languages and artist so much! So helpful! Thank you! 😊

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So glad it's helpful, can't wait to see the ways in which you tend to yourself <3

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Oh I love this concept! It came as a great reminder to nourish this love in multiple languages and ways. Thank you 🙏💛

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So glad it resonates with you!! 💛🧡

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