The Last Sunday In September

Most of the posts I have written in this blog have come to me very easily, guided by my brother's words - our shared memories through his writing to me. This one has been difficult. Why? It's the day. What does it mean? Why is this day "special"? It's one I wish never had to exist! It's not the date. Every day is important to someone. It can be viewed with great happiness and, on the flip side, a day can also be one of great emotional pain. That's how life works, right? The Gold Star Flag The last Sunday in September is of great significance to some. Before I proceed, let me introduce you to Grace Darling Seibold. Grace was a woman and a mother who chose to be a comfort to others by spending time volunteering at a hospital in D.C. Reading her story made her why clear. There was a day when her mailbox no longer contained letters from her son, yet she continued her visits to the hospital. Maybe her son would be admitted without identification; she would kn...