Last night—no; late in the morning at the end of my dreams, half waking:
You were there, again, alive, soft, and I was kissing you. I kissed you so many times in an explosion of enthusiastic affection that would, in life, have sent you running with embarrassment. After, we sat together quietly, the way we used to, and I ran my fingers through your hair. How I miss you, kiddo. All these worries and cares, and I just want to sit with you again, reading into the night. The couch seems so uncomfortable now that you’re not there. I would say it was uncomfortable, suggest we go to bed.
Did I really hold you as you died? Are you really under that stone? Your sister’s there beside you, and mushrooms are sprouting over her grave.
Thank you for visiting, if that was you and not merely a dream.
There was a rainbow today. It was raining when suddenly the world grew bright, like heaven. I wandered out the door, staggered with my eyes not on this earth but upward. There it was, your sign of peace, of assurance, Lord, and I was in your light, the warm rain caressing my all too thinning hair. Beautiful, fainting, momentary; I bow my head.
Increase my faith, Lord. The day I feared has been pushed back, and I count that a blessing. There are things, too many things to know, to be thankful for, but I do not want to have any want of thanksgiving in my heart. You are God, and I praise your name.
Thank you for everything.
Tale Told 
Me Too 😿
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