There’s a moment . . . a single solitary second . . . when the full weight of the casket hits your hand . . . your arm . . . your shoulder. It settles on and around you like a weight – an insubstantial shroud that feels heavier than the weight of a thousand worlds. Every step feels leaden . . . and laden with memories and unsaid truths that brush up against the spoken banalities of everyday existence.
I don’t wish it on anyone.
Yet hearing the ghost of the whisper of the trajectory of our existence . . . nudging ever closer to the limits of our personal event horizon . . . starting to walk in tune with the melody of our own mortality . . . becoming cognizant of the gossamer and ethereal strands that bind us to our world, our communities, ourselves . . .
That . . .that I wish on everyone.
Blessings & Peace,