Life after loosing one of your parents is indescribably different. I liken it to an unvisible injury…you look normal, sound normal, maybe even act normal, but inside you are wounded, mourning the loss of a loved one.
Today was going through some of my mother’s things. And something unexpected happened. I got to know her a little better. I saw old pictures of her I had never seen, saw things of hers I wondered where she got them and why? Items that surely woyld tell a story, no matter how small, if they only could.
A friend of mine made comment of my mother’s mischievous nature, and asked when the “treasure hunt” will start. She knows my mother loved things like that amd no kne would be surprised to find hints and clues as to whatever she might be leading us to hunt. And indeed it has started, justcaa she planned. Now, if I can figure out the next clue…
I feel her with me. Maybe it’s the photos, or smelling her perfume in her clothes (I loved how she smelled) or knowing she is enjoying watching the hunt, I know she is near. And this gives me comfort.
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