I remember the day my father told me that she had passed. I was lying under the covers as he very sheepishly opened my bedroom door to share the news. I can’t remember if music was already playing in the background or if I turned on the stereo to soothe my grief, but somehow I was listening to “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan which spoke so deeply to the situation. The song is now forever linked to her.
I’m listening to Pandora Internet Radio while at work and “Angel” has popped up as the next song in the line-up of great tunes. I am instantly transported to my memory bank; to that day; to the shape of my Granna’s face and her long, strong fingers. I am wishing I could touch the hundreds of shells and pieces of beach glass she collected during her many years living next to the sea and ask her their names again. I am slightly smiling in embarrassment as I mentally replay the times she reprimanded because I walked on the dunes. I am remembering the days I watched her from our second floor deck as she walked gracefully along the sand in her rolled up linen pants, somehow knowing there was no place she'd rather be.