I talked to her tonight. My sweet little baby girl, who was taken too soon last May. After my son, Ricky, fell asleep on the couch and I tucked him in, I ran to the grocery store while my husband waited at home.
As I was driving, I heard something jingling in my purse. It wasn’t a sound I normally hear. And, as with most things out of the ordinary – a unique butterfly, particularly beautiful day or pretty little noise that seems to come out of the blue, it makes me think of her. Like she’s there, next to me, totally aware of what’s going on in our world.
I told her that I love her – more than the moon and the stars – the same thing I tell my little guy when I put him to bed at night. The jingle sounded again, “I know. I’ve been a little hormonal today. You’re right.”
Another jingle. “I love you too. So much.” And then I was there – at the grocery store.
I walked in, picked up something sweet, and started driving home. No more jingling. She was gone.