I met the new lady pastor of the church I go to
(in theory)
at the library tonight when she showed up to our knitting group.
I saw her when I didn’t know she was the new pastor, when she was just some lady who was walking in late and she vibed warm and friendly and nice
and when I said hi to her, she did not look at me weird.
Then I realized who she was and I instantly wanted to give her a hug and cry. I wish she had been the one who spoke at my grandmother’s funeral. Instead it was a reallyverynice man pastor who had “known her” because he was there for a year or so. He did not “know her”. This new pastor would have known her under the pretext of ladyness at the very least.
I left knitting early and as I walked to my car I could have started to cry
but it was too forking cold. My heart ached.
Driving home I realized the second anniversary of her death was just 2 days ago.
The turkeys going hair-on-fire wild this morning?
Duh.
She is all around us.
