Six years ago, early in the morning, I woke up to find my world shattered, never to be the same ever again.
The years drift by and I can only focus on being with you again.
I love you, John, and I miss you so much.
I was injured on Saturday. The details are not important and it was nothing life-threatening although it was potentially damaging and very hurtful at the time.
My point is I was feeling very vulnerable and alone. And wishing John were with me.
But I wasn't. I had to soldier on alone. As I drove back home, trying to keep it together so that I could just get myself and Bella back into the house, I prayed.
Then I happened to look over at the digital clock on my dashboard.
It read 4:43. That is John's birth month and year. He often has that pop up when he wants to say hello to me. It happens far too often to be just a coincidence.
So I knew in that moment that he was telling me I wasn't alone, that he was there, that he loved me and I was going to be okay. He was with me.
I was still hurting but my heart was lifted and that made a big difference.
In 8 days it will be 6 years since John passed. It's still hard and I still feel sad but these little Hello's keep me going.
Thank you, John. I love you.
John found out later in life that he was part Native American. We were never sure what tribe he belonged to but we suspected Cherokee because it came from his Oklahoma ancestors on his father's side and the Cherokee were common in that area.
I also learned through past life regression that John and I shared at least two Native American lives together which probably partly explains our love of this part of the country and our love of the outdoors and the forests. John introduced me to camping and I loved it from the very start.
So, this is for you - for us -, Sweetheart.
Missing you a lot lately, Mom.
You weren't my mother but you treated me as your own daughter and I am so grateful for that. We shared a wonderful bond. You were one of the many gifts John gave me.
Missing you. Love you.