catching redfish

my dear, beloved brother-in-law died today.
 

life is happening.  i pull away.
and, with each person that i loose, i come closer to my death.
my mind and body work together to shield my heart – to stave the inevitable away.
my gut pulls in and my breath constricts,
and, i am choked by my own thoughts
… suffocated by this fear.

i notice this –
how this default keeps me from the fullness of this experience
and, how, with just one breath, i awaken to the capacity of this heart:

to the beauty of the inevitable – to the release of this body
to the rebirth into pure consciousness
… the return to oneness.

from this view, there is no doubt that this is the way.

i recall the look in my nephew’s eyes, and see the man that searches for why
a young boy who opens effortlessly to compassion,
a gentle orb of love and pain and goodness.
and still, there is a longing – a clinging – an unwillingness to believe
to release the belly
to let go of the story of the wound
to cry
to embrace his father – in flesh and spirit
for the very last time.

and, so, the dawn has come
to take me from the lie that plays inside my head
of all i thought and all that was said.


his words and wit no longer witnessed.
his body no longer taking up space the same way.
no longer separate, leaning in
a horizon blurring within the skyline of ocean’s breath
he returns to our mother and father – transformed by his death.

i sit in wonder as it all unfolds,
quiet
watching and inhaling memories
joyful for having known him
alive from his courage
grieving to have lost him
a father, son, brother, husband and friend
celebrating the man he was
and the breath of all that is always forever
and ever and ever.

this loving, simple man who awoke a passion in my son while
catching redfish
casting and sharing all that he was

leaving ripples of all he still is to remind us of our breath.