In a recent forum discussion of recently widowed individuals, the topic for the day was about signs. It was quite the eclectic conversation from everything to my robin in our tree to some seeking a more concrete "sign" having visited a psychic and everything in between.
It was obvious that we have all had different experiences, however in whatever form these experiences occurred, we all agreed that it was a blessing and we wanted the same, to sense that we are present with them and they with us.
Then the most amazing thing happened. A collective sigh occurred, witnessed from the lack of text popping up. Then the text started to fly ... you could see everyone was busy keyboarding as we started to share with each other, our stories. Stories of the time Joe came home with ... and the time Cindy flew down the ... and the time I kidnapped Bill. We laughed, we cried, we (((hugged))) and the messages continued to fly up on screen.
Another pause in writing ... then one message popped up: Do you think they are up there looking down, laughing with us or appalled at our exchange of intimate stories shared with "strangers"?
Ah ... we had our very own "communion of saints" gathered with us.
We agreed that future discussions would include more stories, inviting our loved ones in.
We reluctantly left the chat room our hearts warmed and strengthened by our common stories, and our commemoration of life and of love.
It surely was a "communion of saints." Well said.
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