"You
have been sent out by your senses. Go to the farthest edge of desire, and give
me clothing: burn like a great fire so that the stretched-out shadows of the
things of the world cover me completely. Let everything happen to you: beauty
and terror. You must just go - no
feeling is the farthest you can go. Don't let yourself be separated from me.
The country called life is close. By
its seriousness, you will know it. Give me your hand." ~ Rainer Maria Rilke, Before He Makes Each One
Yesterday was April Fool’s Day, an occasion
I have long ceased to actively participate in. Yet this year I felt like the
butt of some cosmic joke when we found ourselves at midnight bidding goodbye to
my sister and our niece’ whole family at the airport.
As they disappeared past the TSA
checkpoint to soar back home, I felt abandoned and bereft. My arms now empty of
the warm heavy body of our two year old grandson were made more stark in the
glare of the departure area fluorescents.
After years of making their home here,
they were off to yet another adventure back home. Happy as I was for them, my
acute loss prevailed. By the time we reunite for the holidays, our angels would
have lost their baby fat, talk and walk.
Too many precious moments lost. Fly away
home sweet ones.
