THICKENING THE AIR I AM BREATHING

When my Mom died, her spirit vacated her damaged body, and she ASCENDED. She had earned her wings. Her passing also took me out of my small world - my old frame of reference -and far beyond the limitations of a world in which death is perceived as the end of a finite sentence.

But I didn't leave gently. I didn't fly. I was forcefully driven to vacate my old sense of being, whose inside walls were no longer recognizeable, and were in fact eroding faster than I could run.

Where I have been shuttled to at the speed of LOVE since her disappearance, walls do not exist. If they did, that would mean a wall of death between her and me. And separation is unacceptable. So I live with her now, in a world beyond the illusionary puzzles of physical realism.

In other words, I must live now in a place of complete contradiction. Where I should curl up and disintegrate for her absence in body, I will instead bloom beyond my human potential, and reach toward her greater presence in all things. I must not believe that she is lost, but rather, find her in the spaces between. She is no longer matter, but is the ether that binds all strings, waves, and particles; she is not what the eyes see, but what the heart knows. She thickens the air I breathe. She is not gone, but is RIGHT HERE WITH ME through this elemental breakdown; else I should never dream of surviving it. She has not left an empty space; rather, her LOVE fills in all holes. Among the most sacred of all Mothers, she would NEVER leave her childrens' hearts unprotected.

So even underneath the rubble and ash of these walls fallen down, I have no fear. For she holds us still, only now in arms more capable than hers were here; strong enough to elude the barriers of perception that tell us we are mere mortals in a simply finite world.