Sometimes I find myself living with silly thoughts, addressing nonsense, caring about petty issues as if I could be on a reality show, and I remind myself that I have been through far too much in life to be caring about such issues. I allow stress and anxiety over things that really do not matter to dominate my thoughts.

The only life I should be living is a life as loving and forgiving as possible. I have failed to make a difference with my pain if I do not live by the wisdom it has taught me.

There will be times in your life when your loved one is missed more than others.

At first it may be holidays and anniversaries and birthdays, but as time goes by it may be more special events, births, weddings, and graduations. Of course we do not want these beautiful celebrations in our lives plagued by sadness, but taking a moment and letting the sadness come into our heart, opening our hearts, makes all of life more rewarding and real. I worry that if I lost the pain completely, I would lose them forever, so I have become comfortable with the pain. Most of my memories bring smiles, but some still bring tears that keep me vulnerable, alive, humble, honest, and deeply committed to love.

It is easy to get caught up in life and forget what we learned from our losses, the clarity that came with those wicked first days, weeks, and months that followed. Sometimes a good cry and sharing our story years later is cleansing and revitalizing. I find it interesting how so many people hold back their wounds, pack up their pain, and store it in the attic of their minds to never be seen again, while living with outrageous amounts of stress and not relating it to their pain.

We say we are okay, yet heart disease, addiction, and other unhealthy lifestyles are rampant. Maybe airing out that attic every once in a while would clear the air. Americans are not only uncomfortable with pain, they will go to extremes to avoid it. Pretending it does not hurt that much does not make it hurt any less.

When I think about what I want to do with my career and whether I have what it takes to share my story, I cannot imagine talking to people about their pain and mine without crying. I was once at an event where the woman onstage spoke about being raped. She cried as she told the story, and I was deeply moved.

However, afterward I heard a few women talking about the timing of her tears, thinking it was an emotional ploy to get people to sign up for her seminar. I thought that it was a normal human reaction as she shared a horrific event in her life. This stuck with me as I witnessed the reaction of those who do not understand that time does not heal all wounds. Yes, time is our friend, but the wounds leave scars that not even time can erase; and for that, I am thankful.