The life you lived was yours, and we were fortunate if we got to be a part of it ~ to see your enthusiasm about new opportunities, successes and the threshold of big life changes.
And now that you've chosen to travel on a different path, it's still your life that we get to honor and your wishes that we get to respect.
In the wake of knowing I will never hear you laugh at me again, never ask you for help with my messes, never excite in plotting escape from the cruelty of high school or never toss a log of freedom onto the solstice fires, I feel the seduction of loss, grief, guilt and what I don't get now that you're gone.
Those feelings are about me, my expectations for your life, my ego driven desire to have caused a different outcome, the "shoulds" that would assure me I did all I could have for you and the void of possibility that I don't know how to fill. When engulfed with these feelings, I don't get to honor you or respect you or hear the voice that tells me you're well in your new home. I only get to hear about me.
I cried, I wondered, I wished, I talked to you, I lit a candle and I sent you a prayer. And I released you from my needs and expectations to your new post in the universal collective.
Last night I saw you in the light, iridescent, luminous, angelic, and most of all peaceful; free from the torment of external and internal voices that suggested you were anything other than a bright light of hope and love and grace.
While your time to stand beside me in flesh is over, you will walk with me for a long way and when I think of you, I will see you in the new light and know that you're at peace, bathed in love and ready for the next big adventure.
~ namaste, little sis ~
