Maybe The Are Mingling

It is a stark truth, I am now at an age where I now have a small cluster of dear friends, who like me, has lost a parent. It still hasn’t been a year yet since my Dad has passed and I have no real time-frame to rely on to gage how long the grief and mourning of that loss will last: likely forever. I took comfort from those who had been through it before Dad and was then able to transfer that compassion to my closest friend who has recently lost her Mom, a woman I thought the world of and always took pride when she referred to me as her ‘second daughter’. I identify with her sorrow, sympathize and empathize: because I know the pain is the hardest thing to describe with words and that time never truly repairs your heart, never justifies the loss and leaves your internal puzzle pieces shuffled, changed forever but not without a sense of gratitude for having that man or that woman raise you, guide you, scold you, mold you and love you like no one else truly can.

I have seen so many hearts broken from such grave losses in recent years and I was thinking the other day about all of them, together. Supposing Heaven is real, I imagined my Dad congregated with the lost parents of my dearest people. I thought came to me that brought me a moment of comfort. What if they are all hanging out together up there together, friends because we are all friends, to collectively care for us from afar? What if they are mingling? That was a nice thought. While we are down here living and caring for each other as human beings, carrying on their goodness, they are together too.

I wrote a poem about it tonight. To celebrate them. To celebrate us. To comfort. To express my gratitude and love for those who enrich my life. Often times we suffer silently, afraid to burden each other with our heartache but this is an open letter to serve as a reminder that my heart and my ears open: always. My love for you is real.

**

Maybe They Are Mingling

maybe they are mingling

dangling from midnight stars

bursting in Heavenly laughter

maybe

fathers and mothers

lost to us in human flesh

bound to us in Celestial spirit

maybe they are mingling

hanging on the might of the moon

radiating light straight into our hearts

maybe

maybe they are mingling

hovering like bright hummingbirds

reflecting in soft rippling waves

mothers and fathers

absent from our sight

surviving in our smiles

maybe they are mingling

to rejoice in our forged bonds

that sustain us in our sadness

maybe they are mingling

to ensure we stay closely connected

by the gentle influence of the universe

maybe we are mingling

to forge their friendships in Heaven

maybe

**

Sending love up to the Heavens on this Sunday evening of the long September weekend and sending more to those missing their Mom and Dad.

In propinquity,

Nic