Ches Hudel was 31 when her husband and son died. Bill and Jimmy were on a predawn fishing trip, going to meet friends at the lake, when a train barreled through an unmarked railroad crossing and hit their car. Ches was left to raise three daughters, the youngest just over a year old. Somehow, time passed. Life, as it tends to do, went on.
We never forget our loss. But thank God for the human spirit, for its resiliency, for its ability to turn torrents of tears into trickles, laughter into something that no longer feels guilty. Through our grief we ponder: How? Time, we find out. And faith.
This series of essays, first published on Easter Sundays in The Dallas Morning news over several years, explores Ches' story, and those of many others who learned about faith, strength, grief, loss, hope and forgiveness.
At Easter, and any time through the year, it will inspire you with strength for a new day.
We never forget our loss. But thank God for the human spirit, for its resiliency, for its ability to turn torrents of tears into trickles, laughter into something that no longer feels guilty. Through our grief we ponder: How? Time, we find out. And faith.
This series of essays, first published on Easter Sundays in The Dallas Morning news over several years, explores Ches' story, and those of many others who learned about faith, strength, grief, loss, hope and forgiveness.
At Easter, and any time through the year, it will inspire you with strength for a new day.
