When someone dies, I always think of the line Dorothy says in The Wizard of Oz when she is in Munchkinland, and someone or other has left, “My! People come and go so quickly here!”
Because it’s true. Whether it’s death or divorce, marriage or babies, watching your kids grow up, or a friend move away, we’re in a constant state of flux. This gig is short. None of it lasts.
One of my first cousins, Judy, left the earth yesterday. She was in the end stages of Parkinson’s and fell down and hit her head and valiantly fought, but in the end, she passed. It’s such an awful disease and she had it for a long time. She is free now, free of that body that was bogging her down.
Because I am the youngest of all of my first cousins, there are many who are much older than I am, like Judy, who was 86. Because of the age difference (although she was fucking ageless, looking truly beautiful until the end), I have always been much closer to her daughter, who is my age. To me, Judy was glamorous and fashionable and warm with an amazing talent for design, a deep spirituality, good energy, and an easy laugh–a progressive and true original. I fully imagine that Judy will give heaven a design makeover worthy of its name.
Gratitude for those who come and those who go, as we learn to embrace the changes that keep rolling in. This is one of our tasks here, to recognize the impermanence and have at it while it’s fresh–to be with someone in the now-ness.