As I say good-bye
to the small, wooded condo
with its speckled fawns
and golf cart traffic,
moments of solitude
and loud family gatherings
I’m keenly aware
of my Dad’s Spirit
clanging
through the wind chimes.
As I walk the lake path
one last time
I begin to realize
why I’m here.
This.
This lapping lake.
This pale blue sky.
This sense of oneness
with it all.
This deep knowing
that this Presence
is always with me
wherever I go.
As I head to my car,
I’m not surprised
by the gentle whisper
of my Mom’s Spirit,
“Be sure to stop
for ice cream
on your way home.”
Only days later
do the tears
begin to flow.
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