Hello my dear sister Carole,
Your 73 birtday, we a year apart now, a year and eons.
I placed a fresh box of chocolates under your picture on the mantel, twenty years since you've been gone. Gone is comphrensible, you not part of this present, away – twenty years is not.
The hum-drum numb grief of emptiness continuing without you, ache and tears an acceptance of this fact.
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You'd be proud of your sons, both keep busy. Danny with his video work as well as his immediate need for a plumber. Josh continues baking and baking his key lime pies. We celebrated Josh's birthday this year on the actual date of it. Was also the last day of Hanukkah so we combined both. Had a jollygood evening.
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The above composed last night, before midnight, posted minutes later when your birthday arrived. In the hours between, I dreamed of your exuberance, inquisitiveness, the fun we shared. Your laughter. In sleep we were together again, in a crowded small store jammed with "stuff." One of us, most likely you, tried on a pair of form-fitting colorful plastic jean-like pants, white colored with an artful background. I'd thought how odd the pants were, the shiny, sheen texture of thick plastic.
In retrospect, perhaps not so unusual. Most everything passes – breath and thumbprints. Birthdays. Agony and loss until both do we part.
Oh Carole, how you are missed.
Carole on Extralove.com
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