I’ve just returned home from a 3-day getaway with my sisters in the Berkshires of Massachusetts where the autumn colors are in vibrant full bloom. On the morning of my departure, our cat Wednesday, recently diagnosed with asthma, had a coughing spell that made me nervous to leave. My husband assured me that he’d take good care of her and I knew I could trust him. Michael has a gift for transmitting comfort during difficult times. His energy can bring a boil to a simmer in seconds and I had no doubt Wednesday was in good hands.

As I left the driveway, I thought about the gift of comfort and realized that it’s central to my teaching and writing. Two years after we lost our cat, Poupon, I recorded an audiobook called “How to Survive the Loss of a Pet,” because I was eager to provide comfort to those devastated by their own loss. I spent hours in a small recording booth imagining that I was talking to a grieving listener who needed guidance, resources, and the reassurance that they could recover from such a unique, painful experience.

It happened again when I recorded “Self Care for the Wisdom Years.” I imagined taking a listener on a journey of aging that encouraged self-awareness, curiosity, and the courage to live more authentically. I had watched too many people grow old with trepidation, anxiety, and fear, and I wanted to assure the listener that there was a different path.

Providing comfort is a real blessing and my Mother was masterful at it. No matter what challenge we faced, we could be sure that a conversation with her would convince us that all would be well in the end. And in her end, comfort turned out to be the most important gift she left us. While cleaning out her home, my siblings and I found a book at the bottom of her desk drawer with a note taped to the cover, meant for her children. The book was called “The Next Place,” and the note assured us she was fine. “Please don’t be sad,” she wrote. “I’m up here doing the two-step with the angels.”

As the beneficiary of such an unexpected surprise, I told everyone I knew with kids about her note. It softened our grief and brought us closer together as a family.

Now that’s an inheritance ❤️.

Love,

Cheryl