What did I lose when they took you? It felt like it was more than just you. A wise one spoke your voice to me and shared your love for me, your facet of our parting. You told me we were more together, but not less apart. May I learn this math of love and loss. May I know that I am not less me because you are no longer here in form. May I remember that your essence is scribed deep inside me and cannot be removed.
The path to losing you was not linear, it was both my losing something and them taking something. No ceremony, no ritual, no honoring of what was, no one to treasure or even use what was taken. For a time, I lost access to parts of me, although maybe that was the plan all along.
This entire lifetime I have danced with form and content. It’s better said in French, forme et fond. Fond as the deepest part, the depths. Form to my south, depths to my north, that is what was written for me.
A friend offered me a gift recently, the idea that form can be the depths expressing all the way to the surface, rising up to meet the outside world in form. May I honor your absence by embracing my wholeness and enoughness without you here to make it unquestionable. May I free the she in me who questions it. May our parting be the invitation to allow the depths of completeness to rise to the surface and express as form in movement, not the perfect picture it once was.
Even if you are with me differently now, I will miss you forever. The more we were together.
May I offer the honoring that never was, may I find a different kind of more in the loss of you.
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