Sunday, May 12, 2013

Love You Forever

The little box of magnetic poetry was thrust into my hands last spring when Anne was cleaning out her house before she moved to Vancouver for cancer treatment. I had always liked the idea of magnetic words to play with-being a writer and word lover at heart, they seemed like a lot of fun.

I never really did have a chance to look at it for long. Soon we were in the throws of life and the box was put away and forgotten about. Words became fraught with frustration; every time I'd sit to write, I'd stare at the screen on my computer, and nothing would come.

The box stayed hidden away for months, forgotten, until the other day. I was rummaging around for something in a drawer when my fingers found the smooth plastic and I pulled it out, turning it over in my hands, and remembered that day when Anne smiled at me and said that she loved my words.  She always loved my words. No matter how mundane, she would tell me what she thought of every post, answer every tweet, reply to every email. Every Friday tea ended with "I love you" and a hug.

Mother's Day is, for me, a day that causes a little angst. All the mushy, heart squishy accolades to perfect and wonderful mothers only makes me think more about the complicated relationships in my own family and how unfair it felt to lose Anne, who at times was Mom, sister, friend all rolled into one. You can try to avoid it, but still it creeps up on you little by little and this morning, I woke after a dream of having tea with her once more and needed a bit to collect myself.

My fingers hesitated before I dipped into the box of Anne's words and resolved to pull out five random magnets just for fun. The first four describe life perfectly, right now.


One last word to go. What will I pull out? I'm not normally one to do this, but before I reached back into the box, I paused and closed my eyes.

"Anne, give me the last word you want me to have, okay? Love you." my hand hovered before my fingers rested on a magnet and picked it up and opened my eyes.


Honestly, I couldn't help but smile.

Love you forever, too.

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