march 7

so, dear friend, tomorrow is the day to say goodbye. you're all in ashes now, and we gather around you, we who love you.
it's still too much to believe you've died - you, laughing, always awork at something, involved with this or that - how are we to believe that you've left us, you lively spirit?
are you in joy, dancing around us though we grieve, laughing your laugh?
or are you, like us, grief-stricken, unbelieving, mourning this life?
it is a scant two weeks since you were well among us, living just as we do, one of us. now, suddenly, your time has come to be attended to, held, loved, celebrated. how do we remember you when we want you to continue walking with us? how do we allow you to become "memory" when we want you here with us?

i never said to you how much you meant to me. let me say it now.
i never said how i loved your crow's feet when you laughed. how you made us feel welcomed, seen, appreciated. i never told you that the day was brighter when you were there, that i liked to hear what you thought. that it always made me glad to have you around. i never told you that you were good company, that the world was a nicer place because you were in it. these things are known without words, but you deserve to be told them, as well.
friend, how do we let go of you when we weren't ready for you to die? you are still so vibrant in our minds, so recent our memories of you, so alive. why aren't you alive?
where do we find you now? in our own love of things. in the spring approaching, carrying to us the sun, the breezes warm on our skin, hands in the earth to dig, plant, tend. in the apple blossoms that will come, the daffodils, crocuses, lilacs. in shared laughter. in our own fear. in our willingness to be ouselves fully, openly, courageously, truthfully, even when those around us don't understand why we must be different. where do we find you? in the arms of our friends, in gentleness, in the lightness of laughter that lifts us up and out of our troubles. in our impulse to help, and help.
the rain will still fall over your land, the sun will still warm it, inviting your flowers to rise and bloom, only this spring will be without you. and more will come, and the plants you buried in the earth will continue in their ways, placed by the design from your heart. your trees will quiver in the wind, and will continue to hold safely the nests of the birds.
where do we find you? the love we have for you is made of you, generated by who you are, who we were as friends. if you had not lived, it would not be there, so the love itself is you, your effect on us. when we feel it, it is you being held in our hearts that we feel.
may we all be so loved, and so released.