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Moving On

It happened today. Don’t be concerned that you didn’t know, or that you didn’t see it coming. How could I expect you to notice?

It rained last night, and through this afternoon it continues. Not a powerful rain, just enough to keep the ground wet and the skies grey. The rain makes the leaves on the trees glisten, as though they are keeping a bit of starlight alive during the day, starlight close enough to touch. It is appropriate that glistening drops might remind me that dreams continue past the grey showers of days like this, into other days where the sunshine pours out across our shoulders. It is important to remember that contrast drives the motion of a day, one to another, especially when it is difficult to remember.

Today, the rain makes me drowsy. My head feels like a weighted balloon, too heavy to float and to light to think clearly. Shuffled memories steal a look into a moment past, and then shift as quickly to another, while drops patter on the deck quietly. It seems appropriate for today, slightly wet and grey.

I’m not angry at her, how could I be? She stayed as long as she could, longer than most would have, given the same set of circumstances. They poked and prodded, cut and pasted until they had altered her, shaped her, prepared her for today. When I talked to her last week, the joking vibrancy in her voice was shadowed by a lack of energy, she was exhausted. It is no wonder. 

She was my sister in this lifetime, she was my friend.

Now she is gone.