Dessie died April 20, 2008, one year and 3 months ago. I cannot believe it.
These are pictures from the last time I saw her, when she showed up unexpectedly (and drunk) at my house. Six month later, she was dead. 14 months later, Mom was dead.
Dessie was four years younger than I, and always, until the end, more beautiful and vibrant and alive. She lost herself. I think she's found herself again now. I feel her sometimes. I might feel my mother, but since I never really knew her, except as a childish and selfish person; childlike and sweet at the end, I don't know what she would feel like. I don't feel any great maternal loving spirit around me, though, to my great disappointment and disgust.
I think, "I can't believe she isn't there for us now any more than she was there for us when she was alive. You'd think seeing Jesus would have changed her somehow. No, she's still feeling sorry for herself somewhere in the ethernet of the spirit world."
But Dessie, she's dancing around all of us.