I just returned home from a solo trip to Manitou Springs, Colorado where I went for a respite between semesters, but mostly I went to find a moment to slow life down, take pause and connect with you. Although, I think about and miss you each and every day, life seems to stay busy (or maybe I just busy myself) and I need to carve out time to hear the universe and the sound of your spirit. In the early years after your passing, I was very mindful to look for signs of you. As time has gone by, I have fallen back into old habits of rushing from one task to the next not taking time to truly see what is always around me – your love, your spirit.
While hiking up at Pikes Peak, I found a spot devoid of other humans in an alluring meadow and did a meditation atop a small boulder. It was probably the most peaceful place I have ever meditated. When I opened my eyes, I asked you to show me a sign in the form of a marmot and promised to not take pictures – I’d simply enjoy the moment. Sitting there on that rock for a while, no marmots to be seen, I abandoned the idea that my request would come to fruition. Walking back towards the trail head, I began to hear a chirping. As the sound grew louder, I kept looking for the source, hopping over small boulders, pausing, listening and then there it was…. a large marmot sitting on a rock chirping. I stopped and watched him without taking pictures just as I had promised. Looking around, I began to notice there were marmots all around me. I could see their little heads peeking over the tops of large boulders and even more sitting disbursed throughout this boulder field. I watched them, listened to and followed their chirping until I decided it was time to head back to the car. As I relinquished my marmot expedition and turned to head back to my car – there was the biggest heart rock I have ever seen, a heart boulder if you will. You delivered in droves to my request for a sign and I am so incredibly grateful.
Since you left this earth, grief has become a close and cruel friend. I thought I knew so much, I mean I’d been through some very difficult times in my life, but nothing could have prepared me for the depths of sorrow that is child loss. Don’t get me wrong, I have happiness, joy, excitement, love – all the positive things that life has to offer, but there is always a piece of me that will forever be lost as it died right along with you. The pieces that remain have come so far in this journey and for that I am proud. As life resumes its busyness, I am beyond grateful for the time to “take pause” and connect with spirit.
Until next time, my sunshine…..