Precious Bottle of Lotion

     While reaching into the medicine cabinet for my face cream yesterday morning, I noticed that the large container beside it had a puddle of lotion pooled at its base. I did a double take since this pump bottle of aloe lotion is something I have never ever used, lotion no one in this house has ever used. Two-thirds empty and more than five years old, it takes up valuable space in our one and only tiny bathroom. And anyone who knows me well, knows this - I am ruthless when it comes to purging items, a trait that comes in handy when living in a small space. But this, it stays.
     I discovered this bottle of lotion in my son's room soon after he and Kelly died. It had obviously been hers. Two years later, there was no question it would make the move here to this home since it was the only personal item of Kelly's that I had.  
     Now, a puddle. I have seen this happen once before, a year or two ago. Most likely, there is a clear scientific explanation for this, but both times it resulted in a cherished emotional and energetic connection to Kelly. The value of something so seemingly insignificant as an old, no longer in use, bottle of lotion ... precious and priceless.
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A Wonderful World

I had not attended a yoga class for some time, opting to practice poses at home instead.  Finally, this afternoon, I got myself to a Yin class, and I am so glad I did.  Another cold and dreary week had taken its toll on me, both physically and emotionally, and I knew that getting out to a studio would help improve my energy level and disposition - it always does.  Midway through the class, while lying in a meditative state in the deep hip-opening Swan pose, I began sending pink energy out into the room.  Moments later, in my mind's eye, I saw yellow and orange energy waves join in.  The three colours formed a mini rainbow, which was pulsating this beautiful loving energy throughout the space.  The background music thus far had been made up of the soothing instrumentals and calm melodic chantings typically heard during such classes.  Suddenly, while still holding this difficult and uncomfortable pose, Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's rendition of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World" began playing over the speakers. It took but a second to put two and two together.  This song, referencing colours of the rainbow and the beauty in the world, was one of the three that played during Michael's memorial service.  Now, love and gratitude washed through me and infused my entire being.  I am fairly certain that during the thirty plus years of attending yoga classes in various studios, I have not once heard this song play.  When the song ended, the music reverted to instrumentals and chanting, but for the balance of the class, then into the evening, the deep feelings of love and gratitude remained.  What a wonderful world.

Last of the Firsts

Well, here it is.  March 7th showing itself once again.  This time, marking the first anniversary of Michael's passing.  Committing early on to fully experiencing this grieving process.  Giving myself the gift of this entire first year.  Without any expectation of what it might look or feel like.  Not pushing anything away.  Greatly appreciating the luxury of being able to do so.  Now having a personal reference point for an entire year's worth of emotionally charged days this life altering event presented.  A milestone of sorts.  Saying goodbye to the last of the firsts.