Wednesday, April 6, 2011


Recently my son's friend lost his dad and one of our high school friends took his own life. I cannot reconcile how I don't believe there is really a heaven, in so far as there are human forms walking around up there, but I fully believe that my son's friend's dad and my high school friend are absolutely somewhere with my mother (and we aren't even going to get into the fact that suicide is considered by some to be a sin). They are all together - two because of cancer, one because of suicide. I feel my mom. But I haven's seen any signs. I usually feel her when I am in the car. She is sitting right beside me. Probably this is me willing her to be there. But if I could see something, I would know. Over Thanksgiving we had my son's friend over to play, as his mother requested because this little guy needed a break from all the cancer a his house. My son and his friend made paper airplanes and aimed them at our roof. For a good long time there were airplanes on our roof and in our yard. I couldn't bring myself to pick them up. Perhaps it was because I knew what this little boy was about to go through - that his life would never be the same and there would always be a before and an after. And I wanted to hang on to the before for him. His dad died the day after Christmas. And, by then, the airplanes were all gone. Every time I walked around the house to get to my car I would look for them. I looked desperately as I wasn't ready to give up. But finally I gave up. People go. Keeping things can't change that. This weekend, after five months of rain and snow and wind, I opened the door to one of those paper airplanes on my porch. I have no doubt at all this was sent by one of the three, just to let us know they are here.

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