I finished a book on my train ride to work this morning, the first since my mom passed away. It's called The Probability of Miracles and it was written by Wendy Wunder, a yoga teacher who lives in Boston. The following words are from the book's final pages and I'm leaving them here on this web log because they're beautiful and because they remind me of what happened two months ago.
"You cannot conceive of the depths of my sorrow, Campbell Maria Cooper." Alicia brought her fist to her mouth and her other hand to the rail of the bed and took a deep breath before she continued. "I will never be the same when you are gone. Things for me will be dim and gray and flat. But there is one thing that will keep me going, Campbell, and that is a belief in my connection to you. This thing. This crazy enmeshed love feeling that I have for you is real. Like this cup is real. Or this phone is real. And it will not just go away when you do. Okay? Wherever you are going, you will be connected to me by this thing, and you will never, ever be alone, okay? I want you to know that."