It’s September. I can hardly believe it.
It’s gloomy here today. A tree crew will arrive shortly to tend our maples, black walnuts, and catalpa trees (or not? It looks like rain).
On our dog walk yesterday, just as I was hearing the words in my head, “it’s not likely a residential program would’ve saved him, even in the short term,” I found this feather.
The feather wasn’t lying flat. It was sticking straight up as if placed there, stuck in dried mud next to the curb.
Confirmation? Communication, as in permission to release blame, coming from the other side? Maybe.
I’m planning to give my grief talk a rest here, but I wanted to share this first.
Dee~ Such a beautiful feather. If only we had the words…the best, right words. But as we circle around trying to find ’em, I believe that is where a particular part of the process is. For that reason, I do hope you continue writing for you – if that is what would be helpful for you.
I will be writing. No doubt.
Seems Danny is not going to stop leaving you messages .. probably not ever. He’ll be in so many things you see and hear always looking for whatever he can to bring you comfort and peace. Just like all of us here .. we’re all here.
I wouldn’t mind the continuing signs. And thank you for being here.
A Magic Feather…
I can’t believe it’s September.
Ahhh. Magic feathers.