Faith & Time

Little sweetheart, during this time in lockdown when churches can’t receive parishioners, I’ve looked for services online to observe. 

One of them - I think I was telling you about this on Holy Week - is the historical Trinity Church, way downtown near the Battery. Their online services are beautifully shot and very thoughtful. The music is lovely and I’ve come to really like some of the liturgy, as well. 

This week there was a wonderfully thoughtful sermon about Time. It’s something that is so very relevant to me, as I’m sure you know, little sweetheart. I really think there is so much to Time that mortals don’t yet perceive but that you, little sweetheart, with the angels, know to be true. 

Primarily, I have faith that all of our life that seems to have passed has not passed at all but is always and eternal and that we can zoom and linger there in The Forever, just as we can be in whatever the “now” seems to us as mortals, simultaneously. 

Phillip A. Jackson is the speaker, here, and his sermon is called “One Foot in Eternity”. It’s really rather remarkable how resonant this is to me, little sweetheart. His words are both scholarly and inspirational. 

In these difficult days, little sweetheart, I keep telling myself to simplify and just to have faith. And listen for you. I know you’re so much closer than I can imagine. 

With all my love forever.

Don't Go Too Far Away

It’s funny how the time just passes, little sweetheart, adding up to weeks and months and years but some things, however distant in what we think of as time now, merely mortal, remain so close we can nearly touch them and only go to prove there’s so much we don’t yet know. That I don’t yet know but that I know you do know. After all, one of your favorite songs was Sandy Denny’s, a song that expressed that very thought. 

And I was thinking today of how I always used to say to you, even if you were just going into the next room or only shifting your body a bit over in our bed - “don’t go too far away”. 

I know you haven’t. I know you will find me soon, again, forever. 

With all my love.

August 16th

Today is August 16th, little sweetheart - your mom’s birthday.

I got a few little things together from the gift and card shop, Delphinium, on W47th Street that we like so much, wrapped them up and sent them her way.

I’ve also discovered a nice service online that delivers birthday cakes. I often get one for your Dad on Father’s Day or his own birthday and your mom really likes their Vanilla Bean one, so I sent that along as well. I like being there on the day, of course - I made her a lemon cake with buttercream frosting a few years ago when I was visiting - but I can’t fly right now after the pulmonary embolism. Hopefully I can go at Christmas.

One of the things I like most about visiting your mom and dad, little sweetheart, is cooking for them, because it’s something I so loved doing for you. Lots of your little treats and special things are still right here on the red table or inside the top shelf of the fridge.

I know we’ll be together again and forever, little sweetheart. And I don’t know how things work after we die but I hope and suspect there will be a way for me to make nice things for you somehow. Maybe time turns out to be not linear at all and we can just alight and linger anywhere - the kitchen in Davis, say, where I can cook and bake for you and we can cuddle on the sofa afterward and watch a story together before bedtime.

I’m thinking of you always, my gorgeous girl, my bright angel, and sending love forever.

74f

Little sweetheart, it's incredibly, unseasonably warm today. It's late February and it's in the 70's! 78 here in the city was the high today. Right now it's still 74f. A few days ago we had snow. A few from now it's going to be in the 30's.

But today, it's like June. And I did something that made me think of you and make me wish we had done it together. I went out to Coney Island.

Everything's closed out there because, well, because it's the middle of the winter. The amusement park and all the stalls and little shops on the boardwalk are closed. And so are the beaches or at least the waters - you're not supposed to go swimming and there are no lifeguards present. But it was sunny and warm and more than a few people were out. I strolled along the boardwalk and then remembered how you would tell me to make sure I had sunscreen on, so I sat on a bench and applied a bit and then put my hat back on and just watched people walking by for quite a while.

Later, I went down to the water and walked along the shore on the sand and eventually up and out the end of one of the piers. I tried to think of the last time I was out there and I think it must've been 20 years ago. You were probably still in high school!

I really wish we could have a day like this together, little sweetheart. Maybe take a little lunch with us and have a picnic. I remember you telling me that you had a hamper for just such an outing.

I don't know what time is, my darling, my gorgeous girl, but I suspect that you know much more about it and how it works. I hope and pray that it is so much more elastic and accessible once we're on the other side. Once I'm returned to you. Maybe then we can do all kinds of things. All the things we talked about and planned and even more.

I pray for that every day - to be returned to you, my little sweetheart, And to have all the time in the world so we never have to worry again. We'll always be together. Always. How I long for that day. With all my love forever... xM