Today, the Sun will rise, and Michele won’t be out there. I used to look at the moon. To know that you, too, saw its soothing shine united us.
The woodpecker will hammer the back of the tall pine tree in the yard, and the squirrels will flip in the branches and humming birds and chickadees will hover by the glass window but you won’t be out there to hear or see or smell or touch them.
The trillium and the Japanese Maple and Rhododendron and clematis and all the plants you watered in the summer will miss you. All the plants you watered.
The ominous bird will be silent tonight.
Today, my hands will be unable to hold the loving hands I held yesterday.
I will be walking on this earth from now on with only memories of your love in my heart.
This morning, for the first time, the Sun will rise, and Michele won’t be out there. You will be in my heart and in the eyes and lips and ears of all who will see and read and hear your name. Hello, world, without Michele.
Kwami: I am sad for your loss, and also happy for both of you that Michele was able to see “Night Critters” reach the light of day with her dedication in it. Her spirit will follow you and comfort you for as long as you need and remember her. Lean on us as you need to, as well, my good friend.
The irony of this comment is that the beginning of Michele and my friendship was through a comment I left on one of your pages. I miss her daily email. I kept checking it over and over expecting to hear from her but knowing I wouldn’t. I miss her being on the planet. The energy of the Earth has shifted and it’s just a little bit darker now here without her.
Hello Kwami, I just read this. I am so sorry for your loss. May our Lord bless her and keep her. Prayers for Michelle’s eternal peace.