I wrote this in November, but it feels like a hundred years ago. I’ve burned through all of Ana’s candles by now, except for the biggest pillars and some votives. This makes my heart hurt a little bit, but it was worse when the candles sat around collecting dust.
“It seemed like such a terrible injustice that these objects of wax and fiber should exist forever, waiting for my daughter’s slender fingers to light them. That’s how the candles helped me realize that I was stuck. They weren’t waiting for her to come back. I was.”
http://mothersalwayswrite.com/letting-candles-burn/