They cling tight to one another; they’re all they’ve ever known. To once be with him, to now be without him. They’re trembling for their lives as it creeps upon them; the reality of their loss being defined by days, weeks, months, now years as they made it through their first one. Sometimes there is light in the distance but not on a day like this. On this day, they mourn. They sit and weep; they bury their burdens deep. They find no solace in thinking about tomorrow; from where they are it’s just full of more emptiness and sorrow. But on this day it is good to remember the time he spent here, the meaning in the tears that won’t go on forever. Tears eventually get replaced with the kind of smiles he always put on their faces. He stays alive in their hearts and in their lives because of the love he gave them.
When I’ve drawn my final breath
And my body, laid to rest
What will they say of my time spent here?
What will I have given
to leave a lasting impression?
Will there be pain in their laughter?
Joy in their tears?
And so it is this I ask of you, dear children:
Do not mourn the life I lived,
but rather rejoice in all of the love I had to give.
I assure you it will remain
forever with you,
wherever you go;
Even once you grow old and
your souls summon you home.
In that home I shall also be.
It is a place not built of walls, but rather
space for us to be free–
Apart, yet joined by eternity.
Remember, also, another thing:
You are the stars,
the world to me;
You are even everything between
the spaces of the spaces.
All I know of love I learned from you,
my darling dears;
Have no fear.
Your love has carried me through this life,
as it will continue to carry me to
all the places I am meant for.
Close your eyes,
feel my hand warm against yours,
as though I never left.
Think of my love when you’re feeling bereft;
For it is alive and well
And it calls upon you to live your life
as though you might also die;
One day at a time,
Forgive through the pain,
Love through the strife.
I hang up the phone after being told that she left this world peacefully about an hour ago. Meanwhile, in my hands, are the gifts I meant to bring her, the cards I meant to send her. She called a few weeks ago to tell me: no gifts, no cards this year. I never returned her phone call. In her message, she said a phone call would be better than a card. I thought about calling her on Christmas. I thought of her several times throughout the day. But I knew I would have a hard time admitting to her (to anyone) that I was spending Christmas day alone. And then I just got too busy… as usual.
It wasn’t until I got the message that it was time to say our last good-byes that I was willing to drop everything to go and be with her. What if I had done that sooner? She talked so often of having me and my kids over. But either she would fall ill or I would forget because I was too damn… busy.
It isn’t right. No one should keep themselves so busy that they can’t make time for friends and loved ones. Time is precious and how much of it we have is completely unknown. It’s like having a bank account that you continue to withdraw funds from, yet you have no idea when the money is going to run out. In that situation, it seems obvious that we would spend it slowly, carefully, and with a conscious effort. But we all rush around so fast, pretending our lives are going to last forever and that those we love and cherish will always be with us. We waste so much time on things that simply do. not. matter. Because nothing matters more than the people who give us a reason to live.
Pick up the phone. Tell someone you love them. When you see them, be sure to squeeze them tight.
Our bodies are but vessels for the pure being inside. Without it, those now surrounding us feel far removed from us. They are no longer confined to this world; they can travel the depths of space and time.
My intentions were good and my love for her runs deep. I hope she feels that because these gifts in my hand are of no use to her now.
in the face of loss, we don’t ponder those shoes we want to buy, the hair we wish we had, the skin we feel must be painted on in order to conceal the deepest, darkest part of ourselves which clings to the possibility that someone may not desire us, that our flaws by nature would scare people away. no, those thoughts vanish the very instant we lose someone we love and cherish it shakes us to our core. when someone near and dear to us leaves this world, we wonder at the place our beloved has left us for; we think about the traces of their lives they’ve left behind and how we are forever changed by them.
hey pretty girl, doesn’t it make you think? that image you try so hard to maintain; those smiles you fake so well; the eyes you bat at the camera begging for it to lure admirers your way? …you can’t take those with you. even in this lifetime, looks sometimes quickly change and fade. those hours you stand in front of a mirror or a lens …you can’t get those back. so what then really is the function of your vanity? to deny death is to deny the very life you’re not living. the insecurities in you awaken insecurities in others, which invites not beauty but pain into the world.
live your life beautifully. a face can be buried and forgotten, but never love. never love.
a grand view of the world
way up high,
yet all you love within sight?
The calm you may know,
the peace you might feel;
for a moment
soaring without flight,
for a second
breathing without breath;
your own air becoming
the gust of wind
along which you coast
travelling through time
remaining off and on
in the in between,
finding perfection in the pain,
understanding the loss
in the gain.
Would there still be
a place to call home