Death has been somewhat of a theme around here lately. I’m left with a lot of opportunity to observe the different sized holes in my heart that they bring. Tears spill over the stained photos once in a while and I surrender to the fluttering ache that spears my heart. Mostly, I feel the depth of surrealism that captivates me. It seems like whether we’re expecting a death or not at all, we still have an experience of varying degrees of disbelief when it happens. Its just plain surreal to suddenly not have someone around anymore. It appears that so much rawness is born in this place of mystery, I’m inspired to delve beneath the surface as Death hangs from the ceiling like a dark heavy cloud.
There are no words or expressions that soften or dull this ultimate moment of separation. Suffering sticks to the closed eyes of the unborn child that wasn’t given the chance to cry as the misunderstood mother allows her magic to live on without her body. The spirit continues to soar and sail through the myriad of choices that present themselves along the way, re-inventing, relocating, reliving, remembering, releasing……reborn again and again. The mystery expands and swallows everything that is this maya. Our understanding of it is irrelevant, futile actually. Our acceptance and surrender to it – essential. The illusion will prevail and our conquering thoughts and ambitions will remain insignificant. With the cast of an intense eye, I will witness the sacred geometry of change and stand in reverence of her power.
The lovers will flourish in gratitude for the day of her birth and in turn, the day of their reunion. Her blessings will forever weave their magic through every step they take together. I miss the way her eyes squeezed to a close when she smiled with every part of her beautiful, brown face. Her heart an infinite pool of aloha for those she loved.
The butterfly landed with precision on my shoulder and in complete stillness brought me the spirit of our precious Amy. There wasn’t a moment of doubt that she was with me. Crying, I thanked her for visiting on the anniversary of her death. I was deeply touched by her presence. Her eyes began to reveal themselves through the markings on the butterfly’s wings and they were weeping in regret. She asked that I please take care of my brother and her son to which I responded unfavorably. With my own tears, I caressed her soft cheek and whispered I love you. Brave and beautiful, embrace your choice. You will live on in his eyes always.