A friend of mine is leaving us. She is 91; a vibrant mind betrayed by a now weakened and bird-light frame; brave, loving, and terribly tired, she will be having an assisted passing–a shedding of her body, and a freeing of her lovely soul out to finally expand into its’ bliss.
No more parameters of time, and space. No more gravity. No more of this earthly ridiculousness.
I will miss her. All of us who know her will miss her deeply. In consideration of the very sacredness of this event, I’m going to do what connects me to the thrum of all things the best–go for a long bike ride in her honour. Yes, a long, sunset ride, where I can tap into my soul and be present for her, love her.
Yes, I know, this isn’t about me, but, at the same time, it is–it’s about all of us left behind with our sorrow, our longing, and our fear, but also the wonderful memories of her, and how her very unique thread will continue to weave itself into our tapestries, our poems as we are still writing them.
I will be watching the skies as I ride, particularly around sunset. I am eager to see that new star twinkling just so. Lucky the firmament then.