This morning I sat on a bench
at the steps leading to a beach along
the Russian River where Scott and I spent
a whole day listening to music, eating a picnic lunch,
wading in the green waters on a hot summer day a couple of years ago
This morning, I drove out to the Russian River, it is cold today, the rain has eased up. I was on my way to mail a package from Scott\’s mail center. His friend works there. The shop is charming, local products line the shelves mixed in with greeting cards by local artists, handmade soaps, postcards of Bodega Bay and the Redwoods, sweet treats, candies and cookies with a rainbow of sprinkles on top. Scott\’s friend \”J\” takes good care of me and my packages. He arranges everything just right, picks out the best postage rate, and lets me know when I leave that he will \”put love\” in the package before he sends it. It makes me feel good to send my cards and packages from Scott\’s mail center sealed with good energy and love from his friend \”J\”. Scott and \”J\” shared a love of music and good beer.
It takes me a half hour to forty-five minutes to drive out to the mail center, the quaint shop is surrounded by a forest of trees, near the river, nestled in a small extinct lumber town a bit far from the suburbs I live in now. It is well worth the drive, to feel close to Scott, to mail my packages with love.
On my drive this morning through the misty forest, I heard Scott whisper within me \”it\’s okay, you can stay here, you don\’t have to go anywhere, you can stay in this town.\” Through the fairy green moss covered trees I drove, along the road, I watched as the old farmhouses and gnarled vines went by, horses in soggy blankets grazed the young sweet grasses pushing their way through the thick ochre fused mud. I could hear Scott guide me where to turn as I followed roads I hadn\’t remembered ever traveling before. Over a bridge, I kept going, trusting his voice, leading me to where I needed to go.
There is so much I want to share and in good time I will, how Love never dies and the relationship with the ones you love continue on from this life, the messages I have received, the communication lines that remain open.
When my errands were done, I stopped at the local French pastry shop and ordered a small coffee with cream and a chocolate croissant. I could feel Scott wanting me to be happy, to keep living, to find the wonder again in life.
I could feel him with me along the back roads.