Death hovers, like smog swirling ominously around and over and in-between my arms, legs, head, stomach, inside me clinching like frightened hands gripping my soul and clutching at my heart. Grey, smokey, no smell, yes, maybe a smell. No sound, yes, maybe the sound of a baby crying to be held, begging to be touched.
I breathe. I move. I want to cry. I do not want to cry. If I cry it is real…..if I don’t cry I am not honouring…..me….not honouring me and what I feel. Frightened? I don’t know. I don’t think so. If there is really something beyond this life that I have come to know and love for 8 decades, if there really is something beyond that…..then it is a mystery and an adventure. If there isn’t anything…..then there is nothing. And there is nothing to fear.
No, I don’t think frightened is the word. Immensely, amazingly tired. Exhausted. Tired of the heavy pull toward. Tired of pulling back. Back and forth. Pulling. Here. Not here. There. What is there? Every day we put one foot in front of the other. Every day we accomplish whatever it is we accomplish. And that is oh so very good. It feels good to DO things. It feels good to rest. It feels good to think and wonder and guess. It feels good when I know something.
What I know is that death hovers always. Everywhere. For everyone. And at the same time, the sun shines, the green of grass and trees is vivid, music makes me hum or want to dance, children laugh and grandmas hug babies close to their bosoms. Life, love, peace, hope, joy, death. Always. Not the end. Death. But not the end. Actually the beginning. Death, birth, life, joy, death, birth, life, hope…..always.