Please forgive my brevity (in comparison to my previous post - singular); 3 root canals in two days has done a bit of [reparable] damage.
I often find it difficult to articulate my thoughts when writing about my grandmother. I understand what I mean, but I'm not certain how (or if) they will translate. In this instance, I am confident she knows what it is I mean, so I'll not concern myself further.
I've always found beauty & grace in watching flocks of birds purposefully shape-shift through the skies w/precise and dynamic choreography.
...Similar to a school of fish as the students instinctively dart away from their tightly knit forms and back again with a magnetic energy. Whether a flock or a school, each new shape is unique, perfect, and never replicated.
Since Grandmama died, these small swarms of birds have become a connection for us; an inexplicable signature of shared presence. I share this today (written 2/11/2011) in honor of the 6 months which have passed since her death, and in celebration of the 6 months I know she has been whole, without pain, and in the company of those she has missed dearly. My personal healing is more slow in coming, but I'll admit - our birds do help :).
...With unending and ever-present love...♥.
An unapologetic note from the author: against all evidence, I do have other thoughts, ideas, and areas of interest outside of my lovely grandmother (though she is as an entirely deserving subject). My next post will indeed be about something else entirely. Porcupines, guava juice, water towers...something.
