It was our favorite gift
As soon as February would roll around I’d get the call, your cute, smiling, mischievous voice, “Boobilah, Annilah… it’s almost our birthday.”
We loved sharing a birthday. It was a cosmic validation from The Great Beyond. A testimony to our closeness. A validation we didn’t need but liked just the same.
You came to me in a dream last week and said, “Boobilah, Annilah…it’s almost our birthday!” I started to cry in the dream but you couldn’t understand why. You were so happy in the dream. You promised that we would still celebrate together.
In the very last message you left me you had such a happy, sing-songy tone, “I love you, I miss you, I love you.” Your voice echoes in my mind with or without these recordings but I like listening. Not too often, but once a year, it’s nice to hear you again. Does it make me sad? Happy-sad, I guess.
But mostly happy. Happy that I can still feel you. You haven’t really left.
The hospice care people sent letters for an entire year. This was the last one they sent.
Your life, and your death, have inspired me in countless ways. I became an artist almost immediately! It was as if your last breath breathed in a new breath for me. I draw, paint, collage. I’ve had exhibits here and in Italy. Maybe you planted that seed in me as a parting gift. Toda raba.
And after reading this story…
…friends and strangers contacted me to tell me how it has helped them cope as they go through their own loss.
You loved helping others. You’d be thrilled that you still are.
I went on a meditation retreat after you made your exit, to calm my mind and heart. This poem was read and thoughts of losing you flooded my mind.
I vow to continue to bear the truth and to continue to allow your memory to gracefully feed my soul in glorious, surprising ways.
“Boobilah, Emailah… it’s almost our birthday!”
I love you always,
To all reading this — hug ’em while you got ’em.
February 10th ♡