Bethan, has it really been ten years?
What can I say to a daughter who died before me, who left to soon?
What can you say to ease that sense of loss, that knowing that you will never be in my arms again, at least not in that physical way.
What do you say to someone you thought you had lost and then found again, only to lose them once more?
What can you say or do to diminish that ache in the heart?
It should have been me not you. But, that does not help.
All i can do is hold the emptiness that i feel in my heart and gently breathe into it the love that i hold for you, the joy that i hold for you, the laughter that i hold for you, and the gratitude that i hold for you.
It is 10 years since she was so rudely taken away how that time has passed so quickly almost like the blink of an eye.
But you have been there with me through all this time.
You have taught me such deep deep lessons about the delicate, delicious fragility of life, about the strength of hearts torn apart and oh so vulnerable and, about the tenacity of the human soul to help the heart to heal, and, more than anything, about love and the empty heart.
How, as i have become more tender with myself, through these great lessons your leaving has gifted me with , and how the heart fills with light and i see your smile there, hear your laughter and joy there, and i am, strangely, whole again, remade, renewed in that emptyness thanks to you and you life.
My life in your life, your life in mine.
Thank you Bethan.
1972 - 2004
Then Almitra spoke, saying, “We would ask now of Death.”
And he said:
You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
- --oOo-- -