I am a man of words—written and spoken. But, there are no words sufficient to express my thanks for the care, encouragement, and concern you have expressed since my Mom died. In the coldness of Mom’s death, knowing you were paying attention to my plight was warmth to my soul. That you took time to write and fill my Facebook page with your affirmations, assuaged the emptiness I felt with Mom’s passing. Your presence—electronic, voice, and in-person—reaffirms that I am not alone.

It is an odd thing to realize there is no way to repay the outpouring of love and sympathy I have received. It is like a bankruptcy of the heart reversed by compassionate investors. I am grateful.

And you have done the same for my family. One of my brothers referred to the reception after Mom’s memorial service and did so with a tone of reverence, not in hallowed memory of Mom, but in awe of the support we received.

Thank you.

One of my friends said after Mom died, “No sunrise will ever be the same again.” Indeed. The structure of the world has shifted for the Gillham family.

As I have discussed these matters with my Heavenly Father, He has consistently recognized how emotionally, mentally, and physically spent I am by His simple reassurance, “It’s OK. Everything is OK.” That degree of consolation I can grasp. Much more than that and my smidge of remaining capacity capsizes.

I know that there will be more from Father as the dust settles and I recover. I will tell you about it—as much as I can, anyway. I’ll write about it and share with you. After all, we are all on the road together. Why not hold hands as we make the trek?

But for now, I am trying to implement the insightful counsel of my friend Reny: “Grant yourself some grace, Pres.” That’s harder to do than it sounds, but I recognize the wisdom in her advice.

After I rebound a bit, and the Thanksgiving holiday unfolds, I’ll be in touch more regularly than the last few weeks have permitted. In the meantime, thank you again for caring with such profound love.