A year ago tonight at 9:15 my best friend died.
Strange, how something kept me out in gentle rain all morning till the garden was completely planted. Hoeing my heart out, soaked through cutoff jeans and cotton shirt. Didn’t wear my glasses. Didn’t need to see beyond the worried rows. Tomato plants and jalapeno peppers–only ’cause I didn’t start the habanero seeds in pots late winter. Yellow squash and butternut, cucumbers and basil, dill, cilantro too. I’ll have to buy the onions to make the salsa come September.
And I suppose, I won’t have the help in cutting, chopping, ladling into jars, nor hear the laughter of my best friend this year.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
A year without a best friend’s laughter – sad indeed, and yet you find grace and joy all around you in your garden, the birds, in writing, and in family.
I remember that day… I remember your post… Everything you place in words others feel…all the Highs and Lows. Your friend is still here…Her memory lingers in every tree, bush, bird and flower. She is in the aire you exude. Today has been hard. ~sigh!~ Thank-YOU for sharing, once again.
Thank you both for understanding. I look at the empty space and feel the tears well up from deep inside me. Then I look around beyond it, and see her and all those that I miss.