Two weeks … I love you, love you, love you so.
Picked up your ashes Tuesday. So tiny. I am not sure how to do this without you. My heart is beating lopsided.
But you loved life. So I notice the bird song for you. I take a pause and smell the air in the morning. For you. I see the sunlight through the trees, quite on purpose, my dearest, for you. I taste the clear, cool water, and when I eat, it isn’t usually because I’m hungry, these days- but it’s for you. Today I sang softly (I don’t sing anymore. But you loved it so, and would come from wherever you were to sit on your curved seat and listen-) “Till There Was You.”
For you, for you. Breathing in and out, all day long, till I hold you again, my gentle little love.
Death is the deal we make when we come in the door. Don’t carry the departed. Live. For them. Live: quite on purpose. For them. Until it is my time, and as heavy as it can feel right now, this is the way.