December 28
Katrina,
Time is winding down for me, Sister, and with each tick of the clock I wonder how many more chimes I will be granted. I feel, in my heart, that I shall never again see spring, and have found myself at night dreaming of its beauty, its birth, while I am soothed by the protective arms of winter.
Is this the winter of my life, a transitioning to whatever waits ahead? Did I wait too long to recognize my mistakes or is recognizing them enough for solace, forgiveness? Katrina? Can you feel, one sister to another, how my heart aches for the errors I’ve made, the hearts I’ve broken, the time I’ve wasted? Is it too late to summon home the ghosts of my turmoil that I have cast upon others? Is it too late to whisper love and peace to all whom I’ve known?
If those wishes that come from the deepest part of the heart and soul can come true simply by determined thoughts, Sister, then I wish on this world an erasure of any pain I’ve caused. I wish that peace fall upon those I have known to replace any discontent I have sewn. I wish that order would come to those whose lives I’ve caused disruption. I wish that mending would come to hearts I’ve broken. I wish to return to me the ghosts of negativity and cast upon the world the ghosts of peace and hope and joy and love.
Yes, Sister, love. Sitting here at this window, in this house of hope, looking over the fields in my old age and remembering the past, I think I have finally learned what love is.
Sisters always,
Christina
This work is fictional. Any resemblance to actual situations or persons, living or dead, is coincidental and unintentional.
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