I have lit our Oma candle, poured myself a glass of kombucha, cut out lots of prints of that favorite photo of Mama and glued them onto cards.
I have the jitters about sending out these letters tomorrow. How will they be taken? I’m afraid they may cause more grief, a revival of it, when what I want them to revive is some of the happiness Mama possessed.
Piping 24hoursofhappy.com into my brain helps. That song is my antidepressant. And it works instantly. Doubt fighter. Confidence booster. Happiness infuser. Imagine how Mama may have danced down the street to it. She loved to dance. She met her husband dancing.
One big question remains: Who am I doing this for? How is this not one hugely selfish endeavor?
Will have to examine that another day since, over writing personal notes for all the European letters, it’s gotten very late.