I can be alone now. I realised this this morning as I sat outside, having a coffee and a cigarette, being in the old me. I’m not that person anymore, but it feels comfortable and sit in here at least for a moment, but it doesn’t exactly feel good. It doesn’t feel not good either. At least now I am aware of it, and awareness, and acknowledgement is the first step to solving any problem. I’m sure there’s something about that in AA speak, and surely that is also part of the stages of grief. So I sat there, aware of my feelings, myself in my shell, my body. It’s ok. Better than ok really. I can be alone, I thought. I couldn’t have said that before, at least I haven’t said that in a really really long time. Lifetimes ago, in fact, as now it seems that these chapters are actually lifetimes, like how they say that cats have nine lives. Maybe that is why I like cats so much.

Speaking of cats, I miss my little snuggle buggles, Tigré and Réglisse. They are so different, like the twins. They may actually be cousins, as they were born on the same farm at the same time, but apparently not to the same mom. Real need for some on site neutering there, as she may already have oh, let’s say forty cats from the same time, on the lovely hilltop horse farm where the kids, especially Celestine, discovered her love of ponies.

During my coffee break, as I was looking up at the bright morning sky as the traffic whizzed by, I watched one, then a second, then a third, and finally the fourth beautiful soaring black bird, appear, land, or pass by. The first landed on the very top of the highest tree, an evergreen, maybe a redwood, as they are still around, even though Oakland is heavily populated. The second landed a minute later on the next highest. The third, another tree. The fourth coasted over and left. In the same section of sky, a plane silently passed over, high in the sky, so I smiled, and figured I would count that too, since it was the same moment in time.

One for sorrow. Yes, how appropriate. Please let joy arrive, I prayed, out loud.

Two for joy. There she is, thank you.

Three for a girl. That’s who? Me, my sister, my mother, Betty and Dylan. This is a feminine time, of healing, of hope, of sorrow and joy. Softness and love, ease, wisdom, words, music, and silence. Legacy.

Four for a boy. That’s my brother, for sure, I thought. He didn’t land, just passed on by. Thank you for that, too. Not now, now is too sacred, you go on then.

Five for silver. Funny, as that bird is actually made of metal itself. Also, we love silver, us girls. Mom has amassed a very lovely collection of jewellery over the years, I’ve always preferred it, the weight, the tarnish, the patina, the darkness you can polish off that with age and wear seems even more special, as though it carries the proof of experience with it.

I have to take that beautiful bracelet that doesn’t quite work for me, doesn’t feel like it’s meant for me, back to mom so that she can give it to Camille. It is meant for her.

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One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for a girl
Four for a boy
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven for a secret never to be told.

Eight for a wish
Nine for a kiss
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss
Eleven for health
Twelve for wealth
Thirteen beware it’s the devil himself.

One for sorrow
Two for mirth
Three for a funeral
Four for birth
Five for heaven
Six for hell
Seven for the devil, his own self

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