A few months ago I wrote a post about a woman named Ali.
http://www.emmandconnorpoems.blogspot.com/2011/11/for-past-few-months-i-have-been.html
Though I have thought of her often, Of her family and especially her husband and daughter, I never knew these people. Sometimes when you follow a blog it is almost a surreal feeling. You can become so involved with this life you read about, yet you are so far removed from it, that it saves you from feeling pain.
Although aware of this family, knowing their names and seeing there faces from reading the blog Ali's sister has kept for her, I didn't know how "close" to me they were. For the last 5 years we have been going to storytime at the library. On and off as the kids have gone through phases we have almost always gone on Tuesdays. This summer we switched to Mondays. The first few times we went I didn't notice, but then my sister pointed out the names as we sang the welcome song. This was Ali's family. Her sister, her father, her mother and a band of girls in pink sunglasses who I am sure she touched on a level some friends may never understand. Then there is the little. Dressed so perfect, hair in place, round little face. As I sit and round my own up I can't help but feel guilty. I can't imagine not being here and watching my kids grow. I get to watch her daughter dance and run into her grandfathers arms in plain sight each week. I get to see the amazing love that this family has for not only Ali, but for each other. I never knew Ali in this life, but I like to think that she gets to watch my babies in Heaven. Maybe there is a storytime each Monday morning and Ali watches as my babies crawl from place to place......maybe she is only an arm length away from my babies as I am from hers.
Sometimes life doesn't make sense. So we have to make a little sense of it...to keep ourselves sane. Sending so many prayers for Ali's family tonight, knowing her daughter will know who she was through her memory being kept alive and praying that just a little of that love for pink gets to the daughter that is waiting at the gates for me.
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