LJ Herman

LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.

‘You need to get away. You need a BREAK.’ So what did I do? YUP, I called my sister. Who else would do this for me?’: Woman writes story praising ‘superstar’ late sister, ‘She was my rock’

“She called from the hospital to let me know she would try to be well enough to make that trip down here. She had COVID. She helped in every way possible for me to navigate widowhood. She was on the ventilator eight days. The one I leaned on my whole life.”

‘It’s back and growing rapidly.’ We had a feeling this would be our last trip together, but we prayed it wasn’t so. NOTHING brought him relief of any kind.’: Widow recounts loss of husband, healing through nonprofit missionary work, ‘There is PURPOSE in the pain’

“The photo on this post is of my late husband and me. It was our last trip to Africa together. He looks a bit tired and haggard in the photo because, well, unknown to us when we set out on the trip, his cancer was back with a vengeance.”

‘OMG! It’s not working. Give him one more dose. ANOTHER.’ Everything went downhill, and FAST.’: Woman recounts heartbreaking and unexpected loss of father, ‘I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone’

“All day I kept having a weird feeling—like maybe I should call and ask him, ‘How are you?’ I just put it off as something else. The hospital assured us he was fine. I just shut down. I can’t explain it, but this switch in me just turned off. I don’t remember much after.”

‘She screamed, ‘Mommy, why did you take him off life support? God could have healed him.’: Woman pays tribute to late father, ‘He taught me unconditional love’

“I laid my head on his chest, screaming and crying, ‘Dad, I need you, please don’t leave me!’ He immediately sat up for a brief minute, and we locked eyes. His beautiful brown eyes said more than words ever could. I happened to glance over at my mom. I started crying uncontrollably. Flashbacks of our last conversation flooded my thoughts, replaying in my mind over and over. I blamed myself, thinking, ‘If I just hadn‘t mentioned the boxes in the attic, then he wouldn’t have felt like he had to go up there.’”

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