March 30th - Linds' birth launched spring.
She left when she was 33, two weeks after that birthday, so it's two years gone. Linds and I were a year and 10 months apart, which means (quick math) I was almost 35 when Linds died.
Which feels then like some strange circle closing.
Which means?
What I gather from the circle described by two sisters turning 35, is simply that she's still here, out there, and as constant as she ever was. Her own birth constellation of Breach Candy Hospital, Ward ___, March 30th 1973 (our constellations are neighboring, in the born-in-Bombay-in-the-early-70's celestial district) remains part of the universal memory, no more or less fixed than mine and eternal. And in a way I hadn’t expected, Lindsey is growing up with me now and we're in step except she keeps pace on a cosmic scale, her perspective vaster and so she's watching over us as she grows in lightness.
In this photo (a visit to Oyster Bay and Mimi) Linds has a sureness and a calmness I like. I imagine what more years would have brought. I think that if I listen maybe I can hear, maybe Hudson hears.
Happy happy birthday Linds. Don't fall asleep in the cake.
Love
ctp
