Recently a special friend, who is grappling with the grief of losing both her parents this year, asked a question: 'how I would know that my mother was with me?'
As I was looking through the back pages of Mom's diary from her two months at the Johannesburg General Hospital in Hillbrow, I was flawed to see her pencil sketch of an anthurium.
Yesterday Fred had popped out to buy a plant for a house-warming gift.
An anthurium.
This same friend wrote about her questioning left-brain suppressing her right-brain. I understand.
How wonderful it would be to believe that my mother is with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment