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Loss of loved ones, whatever the reason, challenges a gamut of our emotions. A sudden, unexpected loss of life is excruciating; a long ago death numbs our memories; the loss of a treasured relationship crumbles our hearts.

Life tosses the hurt of loss our way, and we need ways to catch it before it smacks us down so hard we have difficulty standing up straight again. A thousand deep breaths brings relaxation; praying lightens our load; talking with others invites sharing the burden. Writing, for writers and at times their readers, plants the seed of peace of mind.

Allysa, a dear friend, came home from work one afternoon and found her husband collapsed on the floor. Jon was young, vibrant and thought to be healthy, a scant ten hours earlier. A heart attack took his life and catapulted hers into chaos. Why? What do I do now? How will I continue alone?

Several years of mourning later, my friend had built parts of a restructered path. A different job, relocation near her family, and a search for new friendships rekindled her spirit. Still, the burden of loss lingered. She needed to say good-bye to the most important person in her life; after he was gone.

On a calm and quiet fall evening, Allysa sat on the balcony of her apartment, and wrote a letter to Jon. The tone of the letter became romantic, humorous, stern, playfully angry, respectful and full of life, as Allysa recanted moments of a long, loving relationship. With tears overflowing her eyes, and her right hand trembling, she knew it was time to finish. The pen moved across the paper seemingly, magically, by itself: "I'll always love you, Jon. Good-bye."

Later that night, Allysa fell asleep with a sense of calm not felt in over a thousand midnights. She had put to rest a part of her to be treasured forever, but finally would fade a little as she moved forward with more of her life. Jon would understand. He knew she loved him. It was time to live happily, and fully again.

Courtney Ames, another friend we call her "Court" for short lost her father to World War II, when both were young. Recently, more than half a century after his death, a relative discovered a stack of letters in her attic. She rushed them to Court. The letters were firmly creased in tattered, brown tinted envelopes; in the corner were faded 1940s postmarks.

The late Mrs. Ames had collected and saved letters from her husband. Mr. Ames' words told of his military travels, the trials and tribulations of service, his joy and anguish, his aspirations

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