Saying goodbye with only distant plans for reunion makes the empty new morning swallow you whole.
On rising we are required to remember our person is no longer in our daily world. Like the thousand times we reach for a phone to call parents with a question or to share news before it hits us that they have both been dead over a decade now. So much a part of who we are; a limb, a vital organ; stunned that we live on without them.
The letting go is like pushing off from shore and swimming into open-ocean towards a destination out of sight. Do we put some effort in and try to get there faster or pace ourselves in case it’s farther than imagined? The thing is, with every passing moment we know we’re getting closer. The starting place is behind us now; the day we said goodbye. And every day a little grief weight drops and bit by bit – lightness takes its place. Before we know it, we’re half way there. Closer by the day to being home than we were yesterday and that’s a good thing. A hopeful thing. And on the day we decide to make plans again clouds disappear and joy rises like crocus up from March snow.
We’re halfway there. See you soon.