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Her smile was clear sky, was green grass, was slender stream of waterfall. Her smile said, You are welcome here. Her smile said, You are not alone. She waved to me as I climbed the hill to sit by the grave of my son and she offered to water the flowers I’d brought from the garden. Her offer was pink snapdragon, was orange marigold, was golden calendula. Her offer said, There are some things we can do. Her offer said, I see you. Thank you, I said. Thank you for taking care of this place. I looked around at the trim lawn, the lovely, well-cared for space where we bring our dead. She shrugged and smiled and said, We love Finn, and backed away, her right hand pressed to her heart, her eyes embracing mine. There are moments so flooded with tenderness every wall around our heart collapses from the beauty of it, and we are left wet and trembling, like newborns. There are moments when we are so naked love enters us completely, shakes us from within and wrecks us, and there, in the rubble of our defenses we fall so deeply in love with life, with the goodness of people, we are remade. When I left, she blew me a kiss. I caught it. Twelve hours later, I still cradle that kiss in my hand.
Copyright 2023 Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer co-hosts the Emerging Form podcast on creative process, Secret Agents of Change (a surreptitious kindness cabal) and Soul Writer’s Circle. Her next collection, All the Honey, comes out in April, 2023.