Thursday, March 31, 2016

The Weight of Your Life

I lost someone this week.
Technically, the last day of last week, on Easter Sunday.
And also technically, we lost her.  As a collective group of humans.  

We all lost her together.

 I never know how to respond to moments like this.  They seem to be happening more often as I age, which I think is normal.  At least, people say it is.  People who have been there.  People who have had the unwelcome and unfortunate experience of losing.

It's a strange thing, the word "lost."  Especially when used in the context of death.  Because it's not as if they've been misplaced.  We know exactly where they are, it is we who are lost.  We are the ones suddenly without someone who had just been there moments before.

My thoughts often tumble around, mixing with my feelings on the matter, getting stuck and tangled.  I sometimes blurt out a random memory or idea at the strangest times.  Just allowing my mind to process it the way that it does, because fighting it would be tragic and even more painful.  I keep thinking about the very obvious absence of her.  The movement of the earth as she departed it—subtle, yet undeniable.

It's odd... the weight of a soul.  Especially a soul such as hers.  When alive, you are aware of their soul, of their life and heart.  It's clear in their eyes and speech and expression.  But I have never felt the weight of a soul like when it departs.

An absence exists.  One that I feel on every level of my conscience.  Someone was there, and now they have left.

And the weight, the abstract, beautiful shape of their soul...  Have I taken the time to enjoy it while she was here?  Did I notice the big and little details that added up to all that was her?


There were things I missed.  Things I ignored.

Until I felt the weight of her soul suddenly lost to me.

But of course there's more, I think to myself.  Of course souls do not simply cease being.  They're too grand and too important and too heavy.

My faith is such that I absolutely believe in more.  In better.  In paradise.  I believe that the weight of a soul, unable to be measured by our meager and limited sciences, finds, at last, perfect rest.

I believe this goodbye is temporary.

And I am so looking forward to seeing her again.

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