Just. Like. That.
I reread my colleague’s Facebook reflections about the recent loss of her mother. Automatically I aligned my mood to the somber realization of death’s callous call to all and to the emptiness she must have in her heart today. The funeral was yesterday, our first day off for Summer Break, and her heartbreak is as fresh as our summer sun. How tenderly she expressed gratitude for the outpouring support from friends and loved ones in this sad time of loss.
Death somehow arrives like it’s alive. A true transporter moving humans elsewhere. There’s the experience of a wisp in a shallow exhale. A sudden exit exists like a dewdrop evaporating on a blade of grass, ash falling off burned charcoal, a candle flame extinguishing, a leaf blowing away. A life transports. Just. Like. That. We, humans, are all moving through our times. We all are. Are. Were. Will be. Just. Like. That. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Chrissie.”