Oh life, you are so complex. You give, you take. We ask. You respond. We live. We die. We lose. We cry. We mourn. We reenter.
My daughter is going to college in the fall.
She was six when her dad died.
Her sister was four.
We began a journey together.
The three of us.
And every night, we would hold hands.
And whisper to each other.
Me and the girls.
We became one.
To make it through.
To live. After him.
And we did. We got here.
Now the oneness expands.
So she can leave.
So she can go on beyond the house.
Beyond the three of us.
And when she does, life… please give to her.
You already took so much.
So let her have a little more.
I know it doesn’t work this way.
But I will always ask.
Her sister will ask
And as I am about to finish this letter, he comes in too.
Whispers from another world.
Far and beyond.
With whispers and chills,
P.S. We featured some new writers on our Second Firsts site this week.
Our health contributor, Leanne Ely, talked about making dinner for one here
Our new author contributor, Brian C. Taylor, wrote about guilt here
Our new author contributor, Kelley Lynn, wrote about dating again here