Maybe just try not to sneak up on me...

Dotyn,

Ever since you passed, I've been a lot more... let's call it "aware"... whenever I find myself alone in the dark. The feeling was much stronger in the weeks following your death, but now even though I'm in a more rational place, it hasn't fully gone away.

I wonder constantly, if I were to see your apparition, would I be happy or afraid? Maybe just surprised.

You're so deeply imbedded in my heart, I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise that I feel you with me  everywhere I go, though...

Just one request if you decide you want to stop by and say hi: any time is welcome, but daylight visiting hours are preferred.

I baked you a cake

Dotyn,

It took me a little longer than I planned, but here it is. I got a little choked up mixing the batter.

I was scraping the side of the bowl, and suddenly remembered how, when we Keisha and I were younger, you would take over mixing when the batter got too heavy for us.

I made it with love. This recipe is a priceless gift from you. I hope it makes you proud.

Coming for a visit.

Dotyn,
As I type this, I'm on my way to visit your body. It's strange for me to think about, because I know you - the person I love and miss - are not there.

So why do people visit graves? I guess I'm going because its the only place I can think of to go. It is Mother's Day weekend, after all. Maybe I'm hoping that a glimmer of your spirit remains with your body. Waiting to console and reassure anyone who comes to visit. Well here I come.

Happy Birthday

Dear Dotyn,

Today would have been your 79th birthday. I guess that makes it your first birthday in heaven...

I've been thinking about you more than usual, and I've decided to bake you a cake. A caramel cake. Your cake - your mother's recipe - it is my tribute to you. I hope, wherever you are, you like it.

Happy birthday, Dotyn. I love you.

May 9th

It's the middle of the night and I'm listening to a thunderstorm thinking of you. You always told us to stay off the phone during storms. I wonder if blogging from a cell phone counts.

Two days from now will mark your birthday, as well as Jack's tenth month. I didn't expect to cry, but here I am typing through tears.