The Morning After The Miracle

It's Easter Monday, little sweetheart. Not everyone celebrates this day and it's not widely thought of, I don't think, here in the states, but there's something resonant in it, I believe. The day after the miracle - and didn't I always call you one, yourself? - the first day of forever.

This morning as I'm having coffee and gathering notes for the days writing, I have Joe McGasko's WFMU show on. He's interviewing Dave Cousins of The Strawbs and the first song they play is one your favorites, the haunting "Where Does the Time Go?", with Sandy Denny on lead vocals. It just always stops me right in my tracks.

Someone else, overcome as I by the sound and words, would turn it off but I turn it up and sit quietly, the tears rolling down my face and think of you.

It happens a lot. On Friday, I was in physical therapy when Adele's "Rolling in the Deep" came on. I simply stopped what I was doing and sat there and let every memory roll over me. How you sang that song yourself - it had just come out - over and over, switching from your head voice to your chest voice in the chorus. How my heart swelled.

I remember you singing it in the parking lot of Andronico's, it was the last time, though we couldn't know it, and I gathered you in my arms and said "I love it when you sing".

My miracle. My Miracle Girl. How very much I love you. Forever. Forever.