I had a long telephone discussion with my 3 year old granddaughter last night. It ranged from the dinner menu to visits to fairy castles. About her grandfather who just died she wondered if he knew that he was dead. I thought he probably did, but would be loving her still and watching from the heavens. It made me remember my daughter of the same age struggling to understand the deaths of my parents. It's impossible. We adults barely are able to grapple with the subject. But she will hear many stories about him, and have photos, and he will be a part of who she is. But the truth is this is what loss looks like.
It's fiercely cold here for us, but the papers say we are going to get rain soon, very soon. Our poor plants and trees could use it, plus our air quality. There is a stillness, a waiting right now. I can feel it in the air. Something is coming.
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