More ghosts and intimations appear.
We had a good friend visiting from DC over for dinner last night. His wife surprised us by coming Ewan’s memorial but he couldn’t make it. So, I pulled out our beautifully bound guest book from the celebration. I haven’t read through it yet. Our friend looked at every page and made one comment, “His baseball coach left a very nice message.”
In the morning I awoke to another message. Ewan’s baseball coach texted to say that he had a really nice dream about Ewan last night. He said, “To me it felt like a peaceful visit. Don’t remember specifics. Was mostly a feeling of warmth and that we had a chance to just talk and catch up. It was really nice.”
I hadn’t heard from Ewan’s baseball coach since August.
This all has an effect of centering me in a sad way. As if he is communicating with us because he misses us and is listening in. I really miss him, but I think its an ok and warm kind of missing. The kind where he’d want us to be thinking of him and missing him, but he wouldn’t want for us to stay sad for long.
#prompt24
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What does it mean for you that these moments actually do exist? What’s it like to experience that deep kind of connection or love, and then shift back again into pain?
Silence
It has a sound, a fullness.
It’s heavy with sigh of tree, and space between breaths.
It’s ripe with pause between birdsong and crash of surf.
It’s golden they say.
But no one tells us it’s addictive.
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