The other night, I held Mr. Virgo in my hands. Well, part of him. I had the funeral director cut a lock of his gorgeous silver hair so I could keep it with me. He put it in a little plastic bag and stuck that in a blue velvet drawstring bag. I keep it in the leather box of the watch Mr. Virgo gave me for Christmas one year. I keep the red leather box on my bedside table. I can talk to him there. My feelings are a little tender this week. Understandable, given the circumstances.

I haven’t taken that lock of hair out for a long, long time. I didn’t cry. I wasn’t necessarily sad. I just wanted to touch him for a moment. I wanted something tangible to remind me…indeed, he WAS real. He DID exist. He wasn’t a figment of my imagination. Sometimes he’s TOO far away and I need to bring him a little closer. Just for a minute I need to cradle that sterling silver in my hands again. I close my eyes and feel the texture between my finger and thumb and remember what it felt like to run my hands through his hair. I breathe in deep and I can almost smell him….leather, woods, tobacco, Halston. Just for a moment I hear his voice, see his smile, lay my head on his chest…feel his heart beating. Just for a moment. It fills me with love and hope and determination. Then, I carefully tuck him away…back in his leather box. And I feel better. I am ok.

❤️

“I think it is right to refresh your memory as long as I live in the tent of this body,”

2 Peter 1:13