When I woke up Thursday morning, she was there. I never know when she is coming, but I definitely know when she is there.
Her spirit is like a light weight on my shoulders. I always think of it as an antique, fox shoulder wrap. Despite its beauty, it is not always pleasant to wear.
We were best friends for thirty years. The brain cancer won the battle eight years ago. I wasn’t there for the end. She kept me from it. Protected me. Things were left unsaid.
She doesn’t visit often. Once or twice a year. Some years, she doesn’t visit at all. Her visits are different than those of others. Her weight on my shoulders is heavier.
One day, maybe I will understand.