Until We Meet Again

Lighting a candle in memory of a mother

As I drift off to sleep, whispers of you linger. The pain settles into my chest.

My mind shifts from that day I can barely recall. To the weeks following, celebrating Thanksgiving one day, planning a memorial next. Trying to manage the word celebrate when the death of a soulmate surrounds. To the months of focused worry that I didn’t do enough, didn’t say enough.

There is no moving on, even after 12 years. The moments when my soul wants to settle into the grief, avoiding the life circling around, I place the images of being your daughter on an endless loop.

I thank you for your love as a mother, as it carries me through the years without you.

Today, I celebrate your smile, your laugh, your skilled Irish sarcasm. Your love of the arts, of words, of other worlds beyond your own.

One day, I will bring you to Ireland and scatter your ashes in the wind until we meet again.

“May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind always be at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand.”

— An Irish Blessing

What are you thankful for today? Join in anytime during November and share your gratitude.

Written by Ellie Jacobson, @2021 all rights reserved.

I’m a freelance writer and editor from Minnesota, writing my first novel, a psychological suspense novel. Are you a writer? Check out Sparks, my newsletter filled with writing prompts to spark your creativity.

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