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Dear Aunty

Dearest Aunty Becky

By Crystal WallentaPublished 3 years ago 2 min read
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Dear Aunty
Photo by Olia Gozha on Unsplash

Dearest Aunty Becky,

The nights are long and cold now. I write to you from the porch stairs. The wood feels like icicles on my thighs. However, when the lights are off and the sky is left to breathe, the porch is where the stars pulsate the strongest. Though I must say, no place on Earth has more diamondized stars than where your soul is.

The stars reminisce of your kindness, perseverance, and beauty. They soften any ache. In retrospect, the universe may have known what my soul needed before my conscious. I was never a night owl. Now one of my greatest joys is waiting for the stars to show their face. My greatest joy is to feel your warmth despite the chill. Despite knowing the stars now act as Heaven’s gate between us.

Their grief is open, unbothered by societal constraints. Therefore, I dare not tell a soul. They could not possibly comprehend. Though I know in my heart’s mind that you would understand. I do not grieve you so because you are still here. My core tightens whenever you are near. A similar feeling to when a stranger passes through your peripheral vision. However, the reality is the stranger is not near. The stranger is not even there.

The stranger is a figment of the imagination. Though the gut counters, doesn’t? The gut knows you are not alone. Someone is nearby. The gut says to not be alarmed, though notice must be taken. You are not alone. I am not alone. You are here. My gut will not allow me to not take notice. Though lonely I still feel.

Perhaps it is a selfish desire. I still wish for your physical presence here. I miss your hugs. I miss the understanding in your eyes. Truly know one has known me the way you have. As absent as I maybe, you made me feel grounded. You made me feel seen.

Occasionally, I pray for you. As if I could manifest you from moon light. To see you physically here. Tonight, I feel confident in prayer. Confident in a way that a person should not be. Time has passed and the cool wood feel as if it has become one with my thighs. I must head in soon. For if nothing else, my fingers are almost too numb to keep writing you.

However, as I gather my things, I hear the hooting of an owl. It is loud and distinct. Truly, I am not alone. I crane my neck around to locate the owl. Soon enough, I see the owl on a branch adjacent to me. The owl’s eyes are dark and ominous. However, they carry your wisdom and your vision to see. The owl truly sees me.

And perhaps my soul knew what I needed for my conscious to manifest my desire. For this owl is here, this owl is you. And miraculously, I no longer feel alone. Perhaps my soul knew I needed you. Though in retrospect, your wisdom is greater than my soul’s.

For you knew I needed to remember the strength within my own bones. Remember the wisdom that flows through me. Remember my place within the world. After all, us Jacobs women, are a force of nature.

grief
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About the Creator

Crystal Wallenta

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