I'm writing to you from Sydney, where we are in the hottest part of our Summer.  It would feel equally distant that I am writing with my young children around me.  But like a lonely journey from Connecticut to Australia, with uncountable steps and months of being too weak to stand or being carried over the waves by others, you can arrive at a place of happiness - one day. Just as I am trying to imagine your grief, can you imagine a distant point of light that is hope? I send you my respects as you try to find your way. May love be your guide.

by David Urquhart in Sydney