I just went out on a pier and threw a bunch of hot pink roses into the ocean. It was freezing. But as I stood there, the blaze of winter sunlight on the water made everything glitter uncontrollably, and I went from sad to kind of peaceful. I thought, that's it, right there, that sparkle I couldn't look away from - that's the Universe. That's about as close to a god as I'm going to get. And two of the roses hooked together and floated away from the rest, and I knew that everything was okay, even if just for that moment.
I came back to the car and looked out where I had stood, that huge long fishing pier sticking out from the rocks at the shore - and I realized that I had been a photograph. All alone in the cold sunshine, way at the end, flinging roses and hope and heartbreak out onto the waves...
It's no accident that the anniversary of my mom's death is the same as Denise's mom's, the same as Kristin's birthday, and that makes me never have to be alone with it. Just like my dad dying on Christmas, I'm lucky enough to have things on both of those horribly painful days that push me into gratitude and celebration.
Again, and I really believe it, there are no coincidences. Well, once in a while I suppose, but 99% of them are exactly what they are supposed to be and they aren't by chance at all. At least in my world they're not.
I miss you, mom.