When two people you love
seemingly more than life
die suddenly, unexpectedly;
both less than six months apart…
it more than unsettles, more than upsets.
So very much more.
Such that after four years since my sister’s death,
and three and a half years after Margaret’s death,
I experience a profound, but commonplace/
everyday awareness of Death;
others’ and my own.
I take nothing for granted.
Everyday may be my last. May be their last.
This awareness becomes OK. Is OK. A given.
Matter of fact.
The awareness of the impermanence
of everyone, even everything.
I don’t dwell on this awareness,
just as I don’t dwell on the fact of the weather.
It is what is and I can’t change it.
This awareness of dissolution is just there,
as part of my given.
And it doesn’t make me sad, or angry, or
anything much; most of the time.
Then there are the times, still the times,
when the impermanence of it all
links with remembrance of something about her;
one or both of them. Margaret or Lexi.
In those melting times, they are as close to my heart and mind
as if they were still here. Still part of my life.
As if I can touch them,
because I can certainly talk with them.
Then I always laugh. Out loud. And say their name. Out loud.
Sometimes over and over.
I give a shout of pure joy, sheer glee.
To be able to feel them again.
It’s in these moments that the impermanence becomes permanence.
Change becomes constant.
Dissolution is an illusion.
Death becomes Life.
Life again, always wins over death.
My memory of those I loved
and knew intimately, personally,
allows them to live again.
In my heart.