Every so often, I imagine myself visiting with Georgie in heaven.
It usually happens when I have my reflexology sessions as it is the only time I can relax deeply and give Georgie and our love a whole hour, uninterrupted.
This week, I didn’t want to leave him in my imagination.
I just wanted to stay there or somehow, drag him back into this world.
I imagined myself sitting down with him, in a field of high-definition coloured flowers and under a magnificently wide-branched, silver tree and told him again and again how much I missed him.
And I told him that I do hope it will not be long before I get to go there too.
These thoughts, before you reach for the phone and call me in panic, are not suicidal thoughts, my friend.
For most people, Death is such a scary word and notion.
I get it too well, I used to be the same before Georgie died.
But now, Death seems more like a friend.
After all, it got to take my baby places I cannot go and Death and I, we are no longer enemies.
Life seems so heavy at times, like a cloak I wish I could just shake out of.
And Death keeps visiting places and taking souls away, souls who weren’t ready for the journey.
Hey, Death, how about me?
I am so weary of this and hang on by a thread called Emma.
I do hope one day, not too far in the future, when she is all grown up and happy and safe,
I hope that you and I will meet up again.
And like old pals, you will show me the way.
The way that takes me right to where my other love is.
The place where expectations and strife and frustrations do not exist.
The place where it is okay to just sit and rest, holding your baby in your arms.
The two of us, Death, will sit down for a while.
And will look at the two worlds we would be sat between.
And will not rush from one into the other.
As Time would be a notion of the past.
And I will thank you, Death.
For being the only Hope that kept me going.
When the cloak of Life got too heavy,
I knew that you were never really too far away…