When my mom died, she was missing for several days.
The waiting game became more and more agonizing with each passing moment.
The past 2 days in Santa Barbara, I’ve been transported back there.
Grief is like that.
A spiral that continues to reveal itself even as the years go by.
Each time a search helicopter flies overhead (which has been non-stop)...
I feel it.
How it feels to wait.
Wanting so badly for the phone to ring.
Willing it to ring.
But when the phone actually does ring, wishing it wasn’t ringing.
Terrified of what might be revealed.
I feel my fingers shaking and my halted deep breaths as I answer.
And my disappointment - when it’s someone else.
And also my deep relief - when it’s someone else - because I’m not ready to know.

And, I think of you.
Those who are waiting.
And, those who have received the call.
And with each helicopter that flies overhead (which has been non-stop)...
I say a prayer.
I send love and light from that place deep inside...