A sense of peace, at the core, shrouded in agonizing woundedness. My spirit knows you live on, safe within Heaven's borders, sheltered from evil's darts and temptation's lures. My soul, however, argues this sacrifice unwillingly made.

Logic declares your well-lived albeit short life a waste. Surely you could have--would have--touched many more lives with God's pure love, by a simple granting of more years. But logic reasons from greed--greed for more of the joyful love that is you, the security your friendship nurtures. Not for the sake of other souls does my own weep relentlessly. Instead my tears slip unbidden into the yawning hollow where memories throb.

Love is eternal, my daughter. I feel my soul's arms reach beyond this fallen world to hold you close again. Like friend reaching for friend in a darkened hallway, I long for your reassuring touch that all is well; I've not really been left behind.

Does eternity know of me, my precious child? Do your companions there know of your much-loved momma, the one you honored so well and faithfully? Do you reflect on our life together here with joy and gratitude, as I do? Do you anticipate our reunion, when sorrow can never again interrupt our fellowship?