windthread

still With this stalk of Geranium.   Is a teacher in these days on going.   Is it still Alive?   So much appears NOT,  but some appears Yes.   Thoughts about mortality.   

and things are seen,   things happen that contribute to these thoughts.   Unasked for,  simply  happening,  but immediately recognized as some kind of  ummmmm,    some kind of  validation that  this thinking is for    Purpose.    Example:

it's a pattern.   At the end of long days of Emrie's being here while Alyssia is taking care of business,    Often she gets the phone and we call people.   or they call us and we answer.   it's most frequently her New Nanna we call,  her father.   They can't talk long because they are at work.  so it's short.   we say we'll call later.   

This time Emrie  and the phone are in this swing.   Alyssia has returned,   is sitting in the fake adirondack  chair,  me in the other swing.    I push Emrie by her feet.  She swings.   Phone rings and she answers.   Alyssia and i are talking,  she talks into phone,  i am not listening to what she says but then she holds out the phone and says

it's for you.    he wants to talk to you,  and i hear her say dad and take the phone and begin talking to her dad…asking him how he is and if he is keeping people safe  (he's  a cop in Houston)  but she interrupts and says…no…it's   YOUR dad.   

i don't remember what all i said but i said for sure,      but…  Emrie….remember?   My dad is dead.   He wouldn't be calling on the phone.   She looks directly and after a long pause says….pretend.   

i hesitate but say ok,  who knows?,   and i say   Hi dad,   how is it going?  Are you doing better?   and some other stuff and then i tell her i'm done talking and that he wants to talk to her and hold the phone out to her….

she takes it and i say….he's a crabby guy.   His name is Bill.

she turns away from us,  receiver to her ear,  face in the privacy of the folds of the swing and says very softly

Hi Bill.   I love you.