Yesterday afternoon I left the protective bubble of Carl’s world. Tending to the details of his life out west, I was comforted by his surroundings and all the intensely wonderful people who filled it. Carl shared everything with me. I feel so blessed that he did that. He cared so much about everyone and I can’t even begin to describe what a gift it’s been to connect with so many of the people that Carl talked about.
I dreaded coming back home. But here I am. I’ve been thinking about this photo all day, a view Carl saw every day. The membrane of that gentle space grew thinner and thinner with each mile that I traveled and this morning I woke up to the raw reality of surroundings. Each breath felt like walking on water–miraculous. I felt dragged down as though filled with jars of dirty coins. This photo did not mean the same to me as it does now. As the day progressed it began to be filled with the goodness of hope and connection. I can feel Carl in all of it–profoundly–and I am reminded that death is a veil, but not an end.
While the body dies, the spirit does not. Let me not forget that those whom I have loved but lost to death are not lost at all. Rather, they dwell in the placid realm beyond time and space. They are not lost to me and I am not lost to them. May a golden cord entwine my heart to those I love who have passed beyond the veil. May my inner eye be opened, that I might see the reality of eternal life. May death not tempt me to forget that what and whom God creates is created forever. Dear God, I place in your hands my sorrow and grief over anyone’s death. May my mind be healed of the delusions of the world, that I might truly see that life goes on forever. May my heart be opened to the higher truth of life unending and so it is…amen…
{originally published Nov 13, 2014}
if this is grace 