“Self includes all ancestors, the yet unborn, the entire community, and all of nature. In my being is my worth because I am not a separate, finite, limited being, but an extension of – and – one with all that is.” – Linda James Myers
We are born from mystery and we return to mystery. We are born from love and return to love. It is so reassuring to me that our relationships continue to grow with our loved ones even after death. Recently while on a walk, I asked myself, How do those we love show up after they die? This was what came to me.
A dense and lumpy matzoh ball of grief.
There, a pink azalea
Here, Cheerleader and her shocking pink shirts,
the first to host a shower at a pretty club with a bright green lawn
the one to take the photos
I miss the smell of her White Shoulders perfume and her oily youthful skin
My mom’s oldest and best friend.
I want more of her, not ready to say goodbye. Maybe I don’t have to.
brings tears to my eyes
they sit and wait.
Then the trees
giants oaks with old beards swaying in the sun
filtered lovely lights, leaves falling everywhere
shedding old skin, limbs reaching out to one another,
reaching for one another over the crackly pavement.
And the cardinals, there they are again, being noisy up in the trees overhead.
There are so many. They are my family. They are here.
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
WE ARE ALL AROUND YOU!
THERE IS SO MUCH LOVE HERE!
There is new life, new growth
something to create and bring into being.
I am in awe of this…grateful and sad.
I love that smile in spanish is sonrisa.
The rising sun.
I will smile today at everyone
I will not care whether or not they smile back.
These little babies just want to be included.
These juicy gems
of blood red pomegranate seeds –
grief wanting to be heard
they too are part of the story.
Nothing to be ashamed of, afraid of
or over with.
Because this is how they show up.