May 24, 2009

It is spring in India. Butterflies would flit by me on an hourly basis. Yellow, Black, Blue, Purple, Orange….many butterflies. Each time I saw a butterfly I said “Hello, my dear Norah, thank you for visiting. I love you and miss you dearly”. I know Norah is not a butterfly just as I know she is not sitting in a white robe on a white cloud. Yet, the process of remembering and watching a butterfly swirl around me and greeting Norah, I found comforting. It was like being surrounded by an old blanket. When I came across many butterflies, I greeted them. “Hello my dear babies, the souls of many babies lost. Your families miss you but I am honored to spend this time with you.” Many of you I don’t know personally but I may read your blog and have come to think of your baby often. Some I can call by name, others I can just recall by feeling. I smile and remember our babies.


  1. Thank you.
    This was beautiful.

  2. *tear* beautiful

  3. I remember Norah. Thank you for remembering Baker.

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