Uprooted

Joyce

Yesterday we honored the dead, and for me-a very special lady who I wish was still here.
All this year, I would imagine her sitting in the kitchen listening to the goings-on of my life and imagine her reaction to some of the madness, the joy, the learning, the deep sorrow that has blanketed 2018.
Once in the Spring, laying in my bed; hysterical and in terror, crying deeply into my pillow-I felt her presence as swiftly as though she had entered the room. And though she had no words, nor any physical manifestation, I knew she was there. And because I felt her there I knew she had not fully left me.
When she died, suddenly in 2015, the hardest part was: I still loved her as though she were here on this plane and loving her had not been severed by her passing. I thought “I’m sending this love to her, but she isn’t here, how can it bounce back to me? The channel is only one way.” Well, I was wrong. The channel is still two ways, just different now, perhaps more delicate. Perhaps more precious, perhaps quieter. Still present though. She is still bouncing back the love that I continue to feel for her. And when I’m lucky, entering my room to remind me that we aren’t ever truly gone from each other. Just away til we can be together again.

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