Sister Moon

It's cold here, but not for the reason you may think. I wait for you, and hold those who are dear and lost to you and the air loses its warmth with every passing moment. Time simply drains the burst of energy until another of my children come home. It is those days I remember when I was like them and why I have chosen to guide them through the fog. Together we watch, and we remember. I see those left behind looking for ways to hold on. It is they that pain my spirit, and I wish for the peace of closure to cover their refusal to let go. My dear, I am not a dark force as I've been painted to be, on the contrary! You may think it trite to proclaim, but I am indeed sacred, you just can't see it because those you have known and loved have lost perspective of my purpose.

Centuries ago, I was welcomed with reverence and respect. My arrival is never one desired (at least by those who remain). Yet, in the days of ritual we had an understanding. I paused, hovering over those that processed and fought so that I may embrace them with a breath of tranquility until they finally accepted my place with their lost love. You see, despite what you have been taught I do not seek to leave behind any of my children. I am their keeper in the late and sacred chapter. You cannot fathom their weariness when they come to me- you are not meant to see it. Yet you are meant to trust that they are safe with me until you can join us. None of them leaves before it is their time, but my clock is not always in sync with their own. For those that feel robbed of memories and moments I seek to help heal and realize what lies beyond as the hourglass runs out.

In days of the Vikings, there was a beauty in the departure of a boat burning into the horizon. When Egypt ruled I was welcomed only once a process of preservation was complete, and I was happy to oblige. Whether in a home surrounded by days of mourning and love, or at the foot of a pillar that finally burnt to the ashes on the ground I have always been a willing woman in waiting.

Yet here we are- me, you, and your blind denial. Why do you fear me so? When my sister pulled you into the light, the first breath you drew sealed a certainty that we would someday meet. I do not choose when I am called, I simply show up when I am beckoned. I love you as only one who dwells as an eternal guardian can. I want the most elegant, authentic, meaningful end for the significance that was your life. Whatever that looks like, I will be there as a witness and walk with you into the light that welcomes us beyond.

We have yet to meet, but my sister she tells me you are quite the beauty. She treasures your laugh and the way that those who encounter you remember your eyes that twinkle with joy. I won't get to experience this until after your final work is done but I do long to know you as a friend. As such I just wanted you to know that you needn't be afraid. Prepare for that day, but don't dwell- it won't delay or speed it along. Above all else I ask that you tell those you care about that our relationship doesn't have to be one of fear or pretending you are still there. How it pains me to see new friends painted and stitched and made to look as if my sister is still witnessing their light. It does not influence their exit, other than to make one last stance of denial that I exist.  

We will meet, my friend. But when we do I will be gentle and we will not go until you are ready. My only wish is that your monumental exodus would be infused with the sacredness and ritual that defines your magnificent self. You are so beautiful! So, remember that all that is confirmed in this life is that you will meet my sister and I, and those that surround you will hold in their memory the impact of each of these fateful events. Be sure your heart is honored, lovely, because ours is the only ritual of the two you can orchestrate- may it be as truly memorable as your heart.