I'm writing to tell you that I'm here for you. My experience with death has taught me that proximity is a matter of relation. I mean, my grandpa, who passed in 2007, well sometimes I see a bluebird, and I think, huh, maybe that's grandpa Andy. He used to feed bluebirds peanuts by shaking the peanut, and the bluebird, hirkemir, he named him, would fly right up to the sliding glass door. He would eat the peanut. And then my grandpa gets this big humble widened grin and I'm only about up to his knees back then, but yeah he was a kind soul, and I still feel him today. Same with my beloved grandma Dana, who collected old jazz records for me to enjoy in her honor, and when I do, I feel she's listening, like Ina radio, saying, " oh, I used to listen to that song over, and over" usually sad songs but sometimes a love song. She really liked," you're the top. " I can only speak for my experience, but life and death are more closely related than I knew, and when I have lost loved ones, I feel a deep sense of acceptance, over time, to know their souls are with me always. So, in short, I'm here for you. It's hard to share but use the tools you can to work through it, and I find solace in bluebirds, butterflies, and while I can, the people that are still with me. Take care.
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