If you see
a shadow in the night that isn’t yours, call to it. Weigh the effort and reward. The worst you can get is no answer, or a ghostly sorry, wrong house. The best would be to hear your mother’s voice, your father’s or a loved one claimed by time: Come to comfort in your sorrow, returned to join in your rejoicing. Speak with them a while, recall the things you still love because they did. And in the morning, seek for something left behind to reassure you didn’t dream them: A scent, a picture straightened or heart traced in a spot of dust you missed, perhaps a single slice of someone’s favorite rye.
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This is so perfect. Love this.
Thanks!
A dear friend, who believes in contact with her dead, recently said her father’s favorite bread was rye. This, and a photo of a shadow on an interior door.