Sometimes this happens. Sometimes we are too late. Sometimes no matter how much we’d like to be there in someone’s final moments their schedule is different from our schedule.
Tag: life
Dear Granny,
I have memories of a magical childhood stitched with love, pot roast, perfectly crisp sheets, and the twinkle of her blue eyes. I love you Granny, I miss you.
A letter to my daughter knowing someday I will die.
What the final outcome of this death will be remains to be seen. Right now we are orbiting in the liminal space of waiting.
Lindsay Hargis Post — Shamanic Touch Therapist 