Today at the door of the therapy appointment there was a little white feather. I didn’t pick it up, I wish I did, but I noticed it out of place. I don't see that in vegas usually.
Then when we came home there was another one at my front door. This time i did bend down painfully slowly, still recovering, and picked it up.
I don’t have a religion. And I didn’t want to see signs. I wanted her here with me, not a sign. Other loss moms told me I would see them. If you just look. I have found comfort in the arms of other mama’s around the world. Friends quickly made by the words, I know, us too. An unspoken bond of trails and tragedy. You dont want to be friends, you dont want anyone to join this club, but its massive. Far greater, and scarier than I thought possible. Strangers on instagram suddenly the people who know you best. A language you cannot learn, but immediately speak when you are trust into this life.
I still don't want to see signs. I just want her.
But there was something comforting in these tiny white feathers today.
with love, lissa