Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Movement of being




When our little baby died I was afraid she would be forgotten.

In a way she is.

The people who came to visit on the anniversary of her death have disappeared in life or have died themselves.
Those who have held her when she was alive remember her.

But for all others she was a name on a calendar, and as the calendars are renewed her name has disappeared.

It doesn't matter, I know now.

It's the never ending movement of being. And like all living creatures she's part of it.



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