Gentle Light Letters
Words for the hardest days
Letters, poems and reflections from hearts living with loss, for the days you are not sure you can keep going.
The letters are companionship. They will sit beside you, but they cannot hold you. When today is more than you can carry, tell someone who can.
01
What arrives and when
Every Thursday
A personal story about grief, loss or walking through a hard season, with one simple reflection or question to keep you company, not to fix you.
Short, written for the days when you need comfort more than advice.
One honest paragraph and a question to sit with. Nothing to answer, nothing to send back.
Someone writes in with their story, or asks me something they have been carrying, then I answer in a few lines.
Four different ways to keep you company, one every Thursday.
02
Read one first
The casseroles ran out.
The messages turned from “I’m so sorry” to “How are you doing?” and “How are you holding up?”
The questions meant well. They were asked with the kind of brightness that suggested there was a correct answer. Is there ever a correct answer?
I remember standing in the kitchen, staring at the last vase of flowers on the counter. The petals were starting to curl at the edges, going brown and brittle. It struck me that this was what grief looked like to everyone else: something bright, then fading and then eventually thrown away. I wish I had dried them.
from Everyone else went back to normal, the first letter
03
Who these are for
You might have found this on a day when your heart feels heavy, confused or simply tired of being strong.
Maybe you are grieving someone you love.
Maybe you are mourning a life that didn’t turn out the way you hoped.
Maybe you can’t even put words to what hurts, but you just know that it does.
It does not matter whether this happened last week or years ago. There is no schedule here and you are not behind.
04
Who is writing
I am Ruth. Ruthie is what my parents called me and they are part of why these letters exist.
I am not writing from the other side of grief, as though it were something I finished. I am writing from inside it, a little further along on some days and not at all on others.
I am not a therapist, a counsellor or a specialist of any kind. What I offer is company.
Every letter is written by me. No team.
05
Not every day is remarkable. That’s rather the point.
What my days look like at times
A quiet day, a full notebook and tea that deserved better.
The tea went cold somewhere around the part where I decided the sentence needed one more comma.
6
The hardest part is often finding the word.
What would you call today?
Ten words.
Choose the ones that fit today. Skip the rest.
There is nothing to score and nothing to answer.
Ten words.
Choose the ones that fit today. Skip the rest.
There is nothing to score and nothing to answer.
Takes about a minute. Nothing is saved.
You chose four.
You did not have to explain any of them.
The end.
Letters that sit close to these words arrive on Thursdays.
07
Other things I make
The letters are free and they will stay free. These take longer to make.
Thirty Letters
The Signature Bundle
The Memory Journal
LORUM IPSUM
The Circle
A quiet members’ space, with the Sanctuary and your own private archive.
$9 a month
Keepsakes
LORUM IPSUM
08
Questions people ask
Once a week, on a Thursday. Four different kinds of letter on a four week rotation, then it begins again.
Any time, with one click at the bottom of any letter. You do not need to explain and I will not ask why.
Yes. I read every response and I answer them myself. Sometimes it takes me a few days.
It sits on the list that sends you the letters and nowhere else. It is never sold, shared, swapped or handed to anyone. If you leave, it goes.
No. Most people never reply and that is completely fine. Reading is enough.
These letters are for any kind of loss. A marriage, a job, a home, your health, a future you had planned. Loss is loss.