One Year On

Image: An Asian Ladybeetle (ladybug) on Morgain’s knuckle, her hand outstretched and palm down.

I’ve been very open and honest about not being okay.  

I tell folks it’s indescribable, the loss.  I haven’t read a description of grief that captures it, and while all the cliches are true, you still can’t know until it’s happened to you.  Perhaps the thing most shaken by losing Allie is my faith.  Not faith in a structured religious sense - faith in the universe, in souls living on, in our ancestors looking out for us.  

My song choice this week has been my theme song of losing Allie. The very first time I heard it, I was immediately transported to her dining room table in Tennessee, picturing her singing it.  I don’t know if this is a real memory, but this song has been a perfect description of trying to understand. 

Today, I struggle between hope and despair. There is a piece of me that wants to believe she is still out there, and a much larger piece that is only ever frustrated with me when I have hope that leads to disappointment.  I have written more about the devastation of losing her than the joy of having had her.  But  - if I let Hope peek its head up -  it seems more appropriate to share those moments of feeling her presence. 

I have weekly Creativity Hours with two close friends.  I asked for a writing prompt back in April, and what I ended up creating was this poem below - written from the perspective of Allie’s spirit.

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When My Sister Made a Game of Letting Me Know She’s Still There

Song of the week: Madness ~ Lucius