August is being cold. Literally. My feet are buried at the peak of some icy hill and death has stretched it's cold arms in my space to snatch away a good friend.
I am yet to digest that he is no more.
There is a waiting sadness ready to explode. Crippling grief can be felt rebaptizing my healing soul with fire. I can feel my inner child scavenging for a way out as the need to sit with pain has never been appealing. There is also an understanding that everything even death has it's reasons and purpose. That an energy had to be replaced by another as it goes through reincarnation.
Nothing is permanent. Not even life and all it's fragility and unpredictability. Whichever the form.
I wish my attached being can interpret his death as rest. I wish his eighty six years can weigh more than my selfish desire to keep him around a little more. How easy it would be to then grieve. How easy it would be to find myself in the blinding fog of loss.
The thought of being lost in the waiting amount of pain is mortifying.
And there are zero places to hide now in my spiritual realm as I have been doing away with the shadows that have kept me company for a long while. My growth emotionally dictates that I ease myself into it without a fight and meet the discomfort and the ache death has brought back to the shores of my life halfway.
How can I do that?
I feel like a traitor already. Being held responsible for his final home has done a number on me. I have orchestrated how we are going to leave him in such a cold place. Water levels are so high at home and he wanted to buried within his home.
And in honouring that I chose where he had once chosen to give me to farm as his final resting place.
The grey shift feels like a soul initiation to a sad cult.
They say that enjoying life comes with accepting what makes it's way to you.
How do I accept his departure? His voice keeps ringing behind every thought. His sunken face has shrouded my entire mind and I can see his smile slowly warming it on replay. Has he found eternal peace? Or at least my favourite of his daughters?
Shadows have reclaimed their respective spaces and I can feel reality trying to dim the lights. Will I survive this? I wonder. For the moment I am trying to readjust and my mind feels like liquidated jelly.
Let me go bury my best friend now. It's 6am and I know today is going to be a long day.
wambuku w.
