Anything is possible.
Few things are probable.
When something transcends probability it is called a miracle.
I died while you were yet my little girl. My sweet little “Sassafras”. And yet I cannot go on past this moment. I remain with you always.
Life goes on miraculously and with divine cruelty. I can see you. I cannot touch you anymore. Yet I feel you tenderly the way I once felt my very breath. You cannot see me anymore. Yet you feel my nudge whenever you lose your way.
I chose you as my light when I died to the world.
I have become your Guardian Angel, my Sassafras, like the ones in those bedtime stories that I used to read to you.
I feel you thinking, “Where was your Guardian Angel, Daddy?”
Daddy’s Guardian Angel was watching the big game with Daddy and I guess Daddy couldn’t…
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