Friday, January 19, 2007

Day 152

Yesterday's most poetic morning:

My sister came to stay the day before yesterday, before flying off to the land of milk and honey to visit her beau. She had an early flight, so at 5.30am I was helping her down the staircase with her cumbersome suitcase, wishing her a safe journey.

This early hour has been (of late) the time that I usually go to sleep and here I was getting up and starting a new day. It was so, so, utterly peaceful. Then it started to snow.

I stood silently, with a small smile to myself, watching the cold snow fall; it was so beautiful. I can never remember thinking that snow falling was beautiful, especially in a built-up city. But there I was in the dark, holding aside my net curtains, nose almost touching the glass, maybe trying to smell it? White flakes falling noiselessly from the sky, almost as if they were respectfully doing so, so as not to wake anyone else. It was a private dance, just for me. Just me and the snow.

Our family started to say goodbye to someone today. At 2pm a part of our family, silently and in mourning, began the final stages of tying up a life. The beautiful day when miracles happened and my sister flew somewhere to make herself happy and the snow fell. The day when I was on the right side of awake to see the dawn. It somehow all seemed so appropriate, and so peaceful.

May you rest in peace. I hope you can hear me.

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