Late letter, only two hours to spare. Forgive me but today was a mad dash of a thing.
We were in Oklahoma City early to take Noelle to see a specialist (Don’t worry she’s absolutely fine.)
Then we rushed home only to run out the door again for Halloween and Trick or Treating. It was a gorgeous evening graced by a foggy Harvest Moon.
The stars above us were so clear that Caedmon kept trying to reach up and touch them. He squirmed in my arms straining for something so beautiful, ethereal and clearly out of his grasp.
What a fitting picture to close these letters with because so often in grieving the loss of you, I have felt like a child reaching for something I’ll never grab hold of. All the components and pieces that made up your life and death will never come together cohesively for me.
I won’t ever really understand why.
And now, through these healing days of writing, I’m done grasping and striving for things out of my reach.
As I wrote and questioned, wondered and wept something inside of me changed. The hard barbs and anger softened up into dandelion fluff and sort of floated away in a breeze of grace and forgiveness.
And now you’re spirit, light and free. I feel you always in the corners of my life, no longer the heavy, burdened soul but a gorgeous presence in my life. One who laughs and rejoices at what she sees in her daughter and grandchildren.
The little child in me will always long for the comfort of your lap and the safety of your arms. The grown woman in me longs partner with you in the struggling and striving of adulthood.
We stand Mother and daughter, one on each side of glory. You know fully and I squint into a mirror most days, hoping for a glimpse of the divine that you are surrounded by.
And this is how we shall be until we meet again, until we can see each other fully, as God intended.
Forever and always I love you, I miss you