What is Alive?

Yesterday when I taught piano and voice lessons I wore a pink coral necklace my mom left me.  A nine year old girl loved it.  I explained that I felt badly because coral is so slow to replenish, and that my mom had bought it in the 1960's when many people had the mistaken belief that we could reap and not sew. 

The little girl played Yankee Doodle and then looked at me and said, "It's alive right?"

"Yes, it's like a tree," I told her.  "It's alive and takes a long time to grow and it's in the ocean.  Not a fish with a shell though, no eyeballs."
We had a laugh and I worried about the info I had given her.  I wanted to run to the library and research coral, but that's a weekend endeavor.  What sticks with me is her question, "It's alive, right?"

When I wear the necklace my deceased mom is alive, right there around my neck.  I hear her unusual low voice that sounded so much like my grandmother Helen's.  I hear her tell me how nice it looks with my pink sweater (that sweater is orange, but who knows since she and I both have color challenge issues?).

I don't want to dwell on dead people, but so many tarot reading clients want to talk about people who have died, passed on, passed through.  Since I turned 62 and get closer to my demise, I live in that ponder zone more often. 

This is what I see with my real eye instead of my mind's eye.  Bluebells burst on the side of my house.  That is life.  My grown children's young skin.  That is life.  My ability to hear my friend's voice on the phone.  That is life, which has to equal optimism.