I’m searching for you
street after street,
household after household.
Your entire block has vanished,
uncountable mystery.
.
.
(I’ve just spent 2 days combing 2000 entries in the 1921 Montreal census in search of the block where my father lived. I can’t find it in any of the districts, though I have found addresses within 5 mins walk in all directions. It’s like they forgot to enumerate his neighbourhood. So frustrating!).
Like something out of a Stephen King novel.
I keep thinking of #12 Grimmauld Place in Harry Potter- that disappears unless you have the magic to find it. 🙂
as a response: I have found you, in the busy passers by, and I hold you tightly in the house of God. (you are loved dear one, by Daddy God, and if I could reach out and physically hug you I would do so.)
Thanks, Hannah.