It’s been one year, and today is one day since you’ve left us.
There is still relief that you don’t have to be in pain, a pain that the cancers stretched out over a decade. Over a decade, and unfortunately that monster of cancer has erased the memories of the good days, a weight that pulls the bad days in front of our eyes. And these reminders for us to enjoy this, this here and now. Thinking of death does bring appreciation to all the small things, the large things, and all things.
And this grief does not let us have immediate relief. I’ve read that it’s just love that doesn’t have a place for it to go to. Agree and disagree, we can still love the memories of you, the stories you’ve become, and the few moments when your spirit is here – the veil is thin this time of year.
And thank the Creator and Universe and the Goddess, the local lands, and all that is – that it is a veil and not a concrete impenetrable wall. These shrouded veils let us breathe, when you cannot.
Grief and Joy are a process, filled with tiny earthquakes and too many epiphanies for our spirit to handle.
And I’m reminded again, at this time of year, when I make my annual artistic sabbatical to travel to that emerald city, Seattle – There needs to be space, you cannot have nothing, without having something. Every light casts shadow.
(Such a good read, one day I may write as well as Lillith Grey.)
Sadness needs to let go to make room for Happiness which will fade and be filled with Sadness needs to let go…
While loved ones dream of you being just out of reach, I need to make plans to do the next thing. Just one step forward, holding and building that what supports me best, honoring what has passed, and try to do everything with appreciation and love. It’s what my spirit needs, it’s the best that I can do.
The hardest part is that everything Changes.
I’m still here,