
He was born when I was 28.
The monsters of pain took him in his 21st.
I was in my 49th.
Today, he would be in his 28th. I am in my 56th.
7 years ago, this night was his last in this house.
I am here tonight. Sleeping in his room.
7 years it takes for all my cells to be replaced.
7 chakras. 7 cycles.
7 colors. 7 musical notes.
7 days clumped into a week.
A bunch of random dates. Time as a thing.
Not straight. A mirage.
Revisiting.
Revolving. Rotating.
An illusion. A thought.
A future forgot.
Grow. Mature. Flower. See.
A constellation upon which I sit as fully me.
Push through the glass wall of Time. Release.
Rise and fall
free.
Poignant, powerful words which convey the suddenness and a stark reminder that life and its progression is essentially change and yet there is growth, there is hope and there is a possibility of peace and resolution
With love and gratitude to you, Ros xx
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Love and gratitude to you too dear Roslyn. xxx
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Thinking of you Sangeeta as I remember Sagaar.
I have been revolving around the number 7 recently as it was 7 years since I lost Angharad on the 7th of this month.
She was 21 when she left and I realised that 7 years was a third of her life alive with us.
As she would have been 28 now, she has been absent for a quarter of the time since conception as her span encompassed four 7 year cycles.
Yes as you say all our cells have been replaced over these last 7 years but our memories are still fresh and intact.
How strange is this significance of number 7 for us this year.
Sending you much love Sangeeta. ❤️💔xx
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I am thinking of you and sending you my love too dear Wynne. xxx
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Pushing through the glass wall of time…that is how it feels right now. Big hugs.
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Big hugs to you dear Marie. xxx
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I havnt forgotten the first time you spoke at Saint Martyn’s in the field about your loss of Saagar and how many days it had been. I find it hard to believe it’s been 7 years for you and over six for me. Thinking of you. Linda x
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