Three things that remind me of you:
the Hillstreet Blues theme song
plum eyeshadow
seashells
You were the first, the first one to push through the membrane between our worlds. I touched the soft stretch marks on your belly after you’d gone, while you were still warm. Hours later in the shower, I stood helpless under the water as your final minutes repeated over and over again in front of my unseeing eyes.
Now each loved one that crosses to the other side thins the barrier between us by degrees, and I feel myself half there with you these days.
I registered to become a bone marrow donor last month, the gift of time to another daughter, maybe. Happy Birthday, Mom.