“Jasmine, the youngest of my two daughters, died of breast cancer nearly seven years ago.
At that point, I suggested she give notice on her flat and move in with me. I had just moved to a new home and a garden that needed attention. This was a perfect project for her as it kept her grounded and focused. Later, Jasmine began her own gardening business, calling it“This pain is love. Allow the grief to unfold in whatever way it wants to”
I began writing letters to Jasmine when she was diagnosed with cancer and continued doing this long after she died. Discharging my feelings onto the page helped to ease my sense of anguish. That was the beginning of nearly eighteen months of receiving signs from her. On two different occasions, a painting of hers dropped mysteriously off the wall; I felt she’d made the lamp in the sitting room flicker. Invariably when I was sad; there was even the time when a heavy brass lamp hanging from the ceiling began swaying.
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