Missing You – Love Always Is

This past week I was able to access my LinkedIn account after being off for over three years.  It was pretty cool, lots of old messages and birthday wishes.

But, the greatest gift I got was to discover that some of my photographs and poetry were still preserved as I had uploaded them.  When I was ‘hacked’ I lost everything, all photographs, you name it.

But, this past week I found some, and my favourite flowers that I’d photograph, the Rose!

This morning they made me think of my Dad.  Some of the flowers had been part of floral arrangements at his funeral service and a bouquet that awaited me when I returned home after closing up the family home in another city.

I couldn’t understand why I was feeling so melancholy, so I did what I always do – I sat to write a poem about the rose. But my heart had much more to say and so Spirit wrote and I felt every letter that I touched.  It is a missing you poem and yet I feel it as a love poem from my Mother and Father; letting me know they are ever present.

My father passed 11 years ago yesterday. I had forgotten and his presence has been heavy on my heart, as has my mother’s.

I think they just want me to know that “We’re with you child.”

This is for my own brothers and sister, their children and my own children; a love poem from the Universe for my family and for your family, if you wish to receive love’s messages.


Missing My Father Mar 8, 2018
Missing My Dad

The energies of love have never left and will never leave because I am a part of the all, and so very much a part of the man and woman who I call mom and dad.  How could what I am made of, them, ever feel that they were no longer a part of every bit of this human form?

There’s absolutely no way any human being will ever be able to prove otherwise – that we are not just a part of our birth family, this immediate generation, but all previous generations and then some.

I am feeling my grandmother and her mother, whom I never met, my father’s parents and grandparents.  They are coursing through the blood in my veins; they are in the fingertips that write this little (going to type ‘wee’ – that’s the Irish relatives) blog.

Missing all of you … and yet I am not.

Tears of a Rose ~ Photo by Shammah