The complete unexpected ending to our sister's life here with us has sent my reality into a spin. I spend half the time in deep contemplation of a heaven and excited by its hope- and it is so real to me this possibility.
then i am catapulted back to a heavenless mind. meanwhile I long for the nearness of my sister and what could have been-on hazy spring days and family nights, then am forced to be in the present by a crying child or a wash of clothes that needs to be done.
the matter of life and death has become so forefront in our minds. tomorrow- mothers day- we will go to the place where her body went, and it is this that is so peculiar. that still silence that lies there so apart from the busy mind resilient against death; so far away from the loveliness of being that is the presence of my sister. so silent. so final. it is not a horrible thing but it is not really nice either. it is peaceful but so silent and unanswering.
what is this life? this life of broken things and broken hearts. of tears cried and pain felt inside the chest; of agony and loss. of all to few moments of happiness. of strange desires and attempts to fit in and join the herd.
the lonely, the regretful, the hungry, the sad, the hurt. the footloose, the happy, the ambitious, the joyful.
i can't understand ambition right now. i can only understand the end.
and yet i also know my sister was ambitious; she did never show desire for the end; and yet i secretly look forward to it seeing it as a distant reunion after our goodbyes on that sad sad night.
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