Yes, maybe. I merely meant to say that even though our loved ones die, we still need a place to put our love and we continue to talk to them in private, to ask them for help, to remind them of something we shared. They DO live on in us. I was thinking mostly of my dear mom, but I think it applies to all of us.
Ah Wade, real love doesn’t die just because our loved one is no longer in his / her corporeal body. It continues and we are glad for it. Happy rainy day to you, neighbor! It was nice to talk to you and the pooch at the bus stop yesterday.
So many possibilities here, Ron - illness, accident, crime, etc. I thought I would leave it unspecified so that more people could identify with it. Thanks for reading it - the two photos seemed to write the story.
Thanks so much for coming over here to read at Leaves again, Rolando. I appreciate so much your thoughtful comment. I can see this little prose poem as the opening paragraph of a longer work, too, starting at the end of the story and working backward in time.
Thanks for reading this, Justin. Since losing my mom in 2017, I have returned to this theme, this view of death, several times in my writing. It can be a bit repetitious, I know, but I still need to deal with it. You know what I mean.
I don’t think it’s repetitious at all. Not for me, at least. I find your work very relatable and compelling!
We lost my mother in law over six years ago, and my wife was explaining to a friend the other day that she’s still working through it. It gets a little easier as time passes, but we can never really fill those holes in our hearts.
Memories, when they are poignant, never leave do they?
Your attached photos remind me of mine at this point of the year.
A time to celebrate colors: all colors.
I remember my mom more vividly in the fall. She is gone, but not really gone.
💚💚💚💚💚
Well, that has an ominous undertow. Secret upon secret.
I misinterpreted this, didn't I.
Yes, maybe. I merely meant to say that even though our loved ones die, we still need a place to put our love and we continue to talk to them in private, to ask them for help, to remind them of something we shared. They DO live on in us. I was thinking mostly of my dear mom, but I think it applies to all of us.
♥️
Poignant… raises many more questions….
Ah Wade, real love doesn’t die just because our loved one is no longer in his / her corporeal body. It continues and we are glad for it. Happy rainy day to you, neighbor! It was nice to talk to you and the pooch at the bus stop yesterday.
Wow. I'd like to know what that "trick of fate" was.
So many possibilities here, Ron - illness, accident, crime, etc. I thought I would leave it unspecified so that more people could identify with it. Thanks for reading it - the two photos seemed to write the story.
Sweet and sad, Sharron.
Certain seasons, certain places help keep the conversation alive. Sweet sentiment, Sharron.
Thank you, my friend. You are so right.
Good morning. This is a kind of prose poem, a story so well woven that it seems real. It could well be the beginning of a fantastic book.
Thanks so much for coming over here to read at Leaves again, Rolando. I appreciate so much your thoughtful comment. I can see this little prose poem as the opening paragraph of a longer work, too, starting at the end of the story and working backward in time.
Autumn, memories, sadness! They go together. Thanks, Sharron.
It is sort of a melancholy season of year. One wants to cozy up on the short, dark days and just dream.
Beautiful, Sharron! The memories of our loved ones live on and grow stronger/more vibrant depending on the season.
Thanks for reading this, Justin. Since losing my mom in 2017, I have returned to this theme, this view of death, several times in my writing. It can be a bit repetitious, I know, but I still need to deal with it. You know what I mean.
I don’t think it’s repetitious at all. Not for me, at least. I find your work very relatable and compelling!
We lost my mother in law over six years ago, and my wife was explaining to a friend the other day that she’s still working through it. It gets a little easier as time passes, but we can never really fill those holes in our hearts.
People leave us, but love does not. And each memory keeps it in place. Happy day to you, Justin.
So evocative! Wonderful words, Sharron.