Again
The years are flying by, quicker than we would like, while we continue to slow down. The pain of Loss, disappointments and broken dreams become as familiar as a mosquito bite, the bite of the horsefly or stinging of a bee. Our grief becomes yet another swatch of tattered fabric, added to the quilt of our Life. It begins to feel comfortable, like an old moth eaten sweater from a thrift store or our favorite pair of jeans, torn at the knees. Again.
Another loved one departs on their Journey while we say our goodbyes, light candles, burn incense and fragrance, as a reminder of their presence. Friends scatter like pigeons in the park, seeking new found feeding grounds. We are left with a kaleidoscope of snapshots, memories, images burned into our minds eye, in living color, no photos are needed. They will live on in our hearts. Again.
Days are long, nights are deep. The morning fog hugs the damp shoreline. I pull my furry friend close for warmth and comfort. Humidity turns to crisp chills. Bright greens fade to browns and greys. Soon I am surrounded by fallen oak and maple leaves. Momentarily, they will start their dance, joyous and carefree. Again.
Grief is a yearning, for days gone by. It is the bone meal and top soil that helps us to grow stronger and bloom brighter. Each year, the pain softens to a brilliant patina. Each day, a Sunday service dressed in it’s best and finest. Harvest the Luv, gather the Grace in neat bundles. They remind us, “Ain’t it good to be alive.” Again.