She stands amongst the ancient redwoods. The silence amplifying her sadness. To the edge of the cliff she inches, the warm sun penetrating the green canopy to warm her face.
When she feels the wind stir, she raises her hand and uncurls her fingers. The ashes take flight.
She smiles at the thought of him off on the great cosmic walkabout. Her heart aches, cause she wasn’t invited. Her sadness not for the time they spent together but rather for the time they would no longer have together.
The tears spill.
Funny we don’t meet people and size them up. We don’t think, ‘is this person worth the pain they will cause me when they part from my life?’ Our hearts just open and friends do the same. We meet each other half way. We lean in and on
each other.
So much so that when one passes the other falls, no longer held up. It takes time to gain ones footing again.
Often we are left with a limp as we learn to walk again. But oh gosh…the treasures we give each other…to know…we are worth that type of pain. We are worth the pain.
There is no greater gift we can give or receive.
The tears spill.
She sits upon the dark soils and hangs her legs over the abyss, suddenly realizing that the ache in her heart is one last hug from him.
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