A friend said to me Saturday “…unfortunately we are on the side of life where we will start to see more death,” after talking of a high school friend’s passing and I’ve been digging up memories ever since, reliving happy moments and accepting her hard truth of this phase of life.
Tonight as I’m going through boxes of old photos, I find a box I packed up in 1998 when I moved from my parents’ house that hasn’t been opened since and it had the sweetest 2nd birthday card from my great grandmother (my mother’s mother’s mother) addressed to me with the signature birthday dollar still in it right next to a yellow crocheted doll she made for me.
Postmarked February 25, 1981, and delivered to me USPS from the house I remember in Chickasaw for $.15 with handwriting that reminded me she was already aging by the time I was born, and the word “belated card” written above the greeting because she knew she missed it. She added the note “I love you little one and want to see you. MaMa Hearn xxxxxx” and sealed it with a crisp 1977 dollar bill from her purse inside.
I’m not sure if what made me cry was to touch the dollar bill she touched that hasn’t been handled for 45 years or to simply read a note written just for me from someone long gone for the first time 45 years later, but either way I did. It felt good to get a warm hug from her spirit and to hold the doll she so lovingly crocheted with her hands just for me.
That God wink reminded me that even after death we can still feel the love of the ones who aren’t with is any more…maybe in a bird, a song, or even a 44 years and 11 months old 2nd birthday card.
Deeper Than a Puddle 