time will not heal

i hate those words right now, i don't want time to heal this gaping wound.
i hate that time marches on and it's weeks since my sister went from me.

time is solid like thick invisible bricks
and i daydream about heaven.

'space is infinite' my sweet son tells me.

and i think time is something we don't understand.

the priest told us Rachel is at a massive jazz cafe type world influenced music banquet.

i like to think of that and imagine that she is at a banquet like he said, where there is no fear of hangovers; cancer; murder; addiction, death. i like to think she can see us here weeping and stony faced with grief and with her old Scottish auntie Mary and her grand ma Margaret (when she's not jamming with Bob Marley and Amy Winehouse or getting deep with Jesus or dancing with Mary(the virgin) or hanging out with Charles dickens and giving him writing advice, i like to think then that she sees us and smiles wanly. cause she knows that it will be just a minute until we see her because we don't understand time. i mean we see stars that have been dead for some time -i think- we don't know about time. she is sad for us but not a sadness that we understand it is a sadness that has no anxiety to it.

Rachel you are here with me while i write this, i think i feel your comforting loving arms on my shoulder you can see me and you are telling me do not be afraid. i think you are my Jesus.

it's just in the daytime rach when i drive through the streets i thought were mine and they are alien, and life feels like a weight around my neck; a sentence that i must endure until i die. and the injustice of us not having you is so unfair i want to stamp my feet and cry like a baby.

i think of maddie macann's parents how they live in a death since their baby disappeared.
i don't know why i think of them but i suppose i think of how they have to carry on even with their relationship. Stephen Lawrence - i know rachel will have met him (and Emily Dickinson and everyone all the victorian street urchins; everyone -

then i suddenly think of how will everyone fit in heaven. my heaven is clearly very eurocentric plus america.
then i imagine all the trillions of people from the beginning of time and the banquet would be really odd.

i have had some wine so this heaven has been easier to contemplate. but i know that in the day in the cruel light of day that i have to endure the opaque deafeningly silent and unanswerable skies. if i call out your name there is no answer just the silence after my cry. it reminds me of the depressing and miserable psalms in the bible. 'i am crying out in the wilderness lord, why won't you answer me' etc etc and i just think why won't you answer me god, rachel. just answer. but there is nothing.

i don't know.