Sally's Dearness

At the last moment I decided not to publish people's faces. I don't know why--respect for their private grief it seems.

Today I take a bus back to Phoenix to resume the veggie voyage. I miss Michael and look forward to resuming the wandering life of the always home.
Just now I walked up out of the canyon to greet the sun coming up over Los Angeles. I was saying goodbye to a house that I never really knew but where Orien would visit for many happy times with her Uncle Ian as she was growing up.
(Ian died last year before his 60th birthday and the house is in escrow. We have stayed here during this period of bringing Sally’s body back from Canada through the funeral yesterday. This morning before dawn Orien’s father, Sheldon, and I, drove Orien to the airport so she could return for work today. This has been a grueling time for both of them and I’m so grateful I could be here to support them.)
Yesterday and in the days prior to the funeral, I got to meet some of Ian’s friends and family so for me the experience of being here has been really expansive because I have been enriched by these generous, creative and kind people as well as getting a prism of illuminating light on Sally’s (and Ian’s) lives and how much they were loved by their family and friends. At the funeral, Sally’s long life was celebrated in such wonderful terms that her memory just pulses with the words and faces of these new friends who I feel are dear to me also.
When near ones die it seems like it’s the natural chance to explore that most difficult relationship, the one with mortality. Each time is painful but when my grounding shifts and I experience the yawning vulnerability of the unknown it seems to be a great gift from Life. It opens my eyes wider and primes me to the marvels of sensing and also reinforces my awe and appreciation for our human connectivity.


Goodbye and Hello to the precious moments and beings given us.