the sight of anyone.....
total strangers, saying goodbye
on any corner of the world frays at my soul.
the simple gesture of the open hand
waving back and forth in the gathering sky,
like paper thin kites darting this way and that... too far above us,
or the distant cry of a summer loon....
remain so hauntingly out of reach.
the way, from this vantage point, in the autumn of life,
we know goodbyes separate us from the ones we love,
sometimes forever.
the wave of youth
is not a wave of longing, or melancholy,
it does not catch in the heart of holding on.
it is a faster, fiercer wave that throws caution to the wind;
sends its love in a furry careening off towards adventure,
rarely looking back.
(i have a young son and recognize the unencumbered velocity of youth
moving forward like a great unstoppable wheel of wanderlust
propelling him ever forward to places unknown.)
when i was sixteen my best friend moved to sinaloa, mexico.
after countless months apart
i convinced my parents to place me on a tijuana southbound bus for her, and springbreak.
the two day rosary swinging on the dashboard of a treacherous ride ferried me away
to a small village where i would awaken to an exotic world
that would shatter the cookie cutter mold of
my porcelain life.
i am sure i waved goodbye
with the same wild abandon i now see in my son.
and although i jumped on the over crowed bus
with an electric sense my world was just about to burst open,
i did notice my father's eyes, his pure unguarded love
and something that seemed to catch in his throat like gathering darkness.
an unmeasurable weight on the heart i recognize now to be
the pain of letting go.
that is what i labored with all day in the studio as i let the
white hot pain that tied up my heart,
loose with every vibrant colour i fitted into the stained glass
window before me.
i chose each piece thoughtfully and imagined
the light of all seasons
crushing through with a vengeance,
as wild enormous wings unfurled before me...
(like you my dear koko, like you)
i let the spirit of my treasured friend
fly, fly, fly
out of my reluctant heart,
like a wild careening kite lifting into the measureless sky.
like the loon that will always and forever call for us on the edges of eternal longing.
like all those moments i was unwilling to let go finally rising inside of me,
into that last wave of departure.
june 26, 2008
***
last night we stood on the landing above the quiet ponds
the sound of our weekend laughter bowed to a thousand stars
as we began the ritual of leave taking.
we stood on the edge of darkness until the final glimpse of stephanie and greg's tail lights dimmed from view...
until we called our last farewells from the open windows of life...
until my thoughts carried me back three years
to the unexpected death of Koko.
to the one moment that practice never makes perfect,
to the art of letting go.
Amazingly observed and reflected back to us.
A magic mix of emotion and an acute rendering of this part of everyone's life.
Posted by: joco | November 14, 2010 at 02:00 AM
You have written ten thousand hearts, Rebecca, in these words of loss and longing.
Posted by: Magical Mystical Teacher | June 27, 2011 at 03:53 PM
i have no words for this. you have said them all...
Posted by: leslie | June 27, 2011 at 04:32 PM
Somehow, in reading this, I am reminded of the journey of Mary, whom you love so much, a woman who bore a son, knowing that he was to die, knowing from the moment he lay in her arms that he would be laid there again, not wrapped in blankets but in a shroud at the tender age of 33. Such a great love and a deep and compassionate understanding of letting go, of knowing somehow that He never really belonged to her in the first place, but to the world and to a greater peace. And he, knowing this, offered his mother to one he trusted most, his friend John. "Mother, behold thy son. Son, behold thy mother." Your friend Koko knows that peace of belonging now. My dear the sudden death of a friend often reminds us of our own mortality. This I know. Be assured, rebecca my dear friend, there will always be enough Love, enough Compassion and enough Hope to face the unexpected.
All My Love,
Noelle
Posted by: Noelle | June 27, 2011 at 09:02 PM
Hello Lovely,
Goodbyes are such sweet sorrow. I could cry a river.
About Steph. At least the thread of the computer internet is alive with your souls touching maybe even magically today!
Thinking of you!
xox
Constance
Posted by: rochambeau | June 28, 2011 at 05:42 AM
Incredible.
Posted by: Cheryl | June 28, 2011 at 07:47 AM
This was so beautiful, rebecca. I swear- we spend half our lives gathering to us and half letting loose of what we have gathered. The hardest, of course, being the ones we love.
No, there is no practice which makes perfect in this. And in fact, every loss brings back each one, as fresh and sharp as it ever was.
At least, I have found this to be true in my life.
I hope to see that stained glass. The glass stained with the soul of your love, released by that reluctant heart.
Posted by: Ms. Moon | June 28, 2011 at 01:22 PM