The woman in the story had come to Al Anon when her husband was already sober. Rather than fearing his drinking, she feared him seeking solutions without her. Would he get better and leave her?
Trauma humbles us. It transform us. In the end, if we give our wounds the love they need and deserve to be healed, it will bring out what matters the most.
What if we’re all messengers, just in disguise? Only a few kind-hearted souls may reveal themselves as such, but maybe we all possess the potential for deliverance deep within our bones.
But most importantly, I now understand that the wounds we incur, even the ones inflicted over and over and over again, they scar over and they do heal.
When my brother Carlos died in June of 2013, I did two things: I threw myself into my writing and I started devouring stories and essays, anecdotes, blog postings, anything and everything related to grief.
