Sometimes you just have to pause.
A friend of mine died yesterday after a long battle with leukemia. She was a mother of five, like me, and a very special person who I know is dearly missed by many. I need time to process this and tend to my family and take a short blogging break. I’ve promised a weekly Wednesday post, however, so wanted anyone who might stop by to know why I’ve ducked out for now. Hopefully, if things are somewhat back on course by next week, I’ll return then.
Roberta was a writer, too, and some of her projects were not yet finished when her illness took hold. I know that she would want me to say here that if you have an unrealized dream and if you have the space in which to pursue it, don’t hold back.
Peace to you,
A ship, at my side, spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, “There, she is gone.”
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast, hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me – not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,” there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout,
“Here she comes!”
And that is dying. . .
Death comes in its own time, in its own way.
Death is as unique as the individual experiencing it.