In my face.

Coco was outside the other night and some leave rustled in the wind. I never saw her scurry backward so fast. She stood back barking at the leaves like a maniac and finally I had to let her in because she was so beside herself. Later, I could almost hear Ali giggling at the sight of her silly dog fleeing the leaves. I haven’t thought about her laugh in a very long time, but it felt so good to remember it—for a minute she was right there with me.

When I was cleaning out the DVD cabinet, I ran across the video of her funeral and I watched it for the first time. It was as if I was watching someone else--all very fuzzy and nightmare-like. It was sad, yet it was good; a reminder of how much she was loved and the impact she had on so many. It was good to be reminded of her conversations with her friend and Pastor Karl, that she felt God’s presence and had prepared herself to meet Him.

Sometimes I still fool myself into thinking that there will be some sort of miracle and she will come back to me. How ludicrous is that? So when I come to my senses, the rational me compromises by hoping she will “visit” me; that there will be some sort of encounter or a conversation in a dream. It has happened, but only a couple of times and very long ago. That will sound crazy to some, but others will know what I’m talking about. Maybe hearing her laugh was the gift I had been hoping for. I need to learn not to be so greedy.

She is “in my face” this time of year—first days of school, Halloween, birthdays, trips to Williamsburg and the orchard, Thanksgiving and Christmas. It’s been a hard week.