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
Love and gratitude to you too dear Roslyn. xxx
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
I am thinking of you and sending you my love too dear Wynne. xxx
Pushing through the glass wall of time…that is how it feels right now. Big hugs.
Big hugs to you dear Marie. xxx
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