(Originally written August 17, 2017)
It rained for a week after Caryn died. Memory is a funny thing and can easily be manipulated to suit the stories that we want to tell, so maybe I am wrong, but I remember it as a soft rain, the kind of rain that you can stand under and not be uncomfortable. The kind that feeds the flowers in the ground, that lovers kiss under, that gives the world a fresh and dewy glow.
When I hung up the phone after getting the news of Kate’s death, I was outside standing under the carport and it started to hail. The intensity grew until my ears could only hear the hard echos of ice hitting metal and concrete all around me. It did not last long, less than five minutes, but it made an impression. A moment I will never, ever forget.
My Libra and My Capricorn – gentle and soothing, fiery and fierce. And here am, your Pisces, Queen of daydreams and sorrow. Someone told me last night, “When your ship is sinking, become the water that holds it.” I suppose that is what I am trying to do. After all, my name does mean ‘Of the sea’.
There is pain. There is fear. Sometimes I am breathless with it and have to stop what I am doing and hunch over just to catch it again. The thought of this final, permanent separation is unbelievable and overwhelming. I cannot quite comprehend how this came to be. The thought of you looking down (it’s always looking down, even though I don’t believe in a traditional Heaven) and seeing me stripped open, raw and barren, all the ugly and beautiful pieces of my heart on display, to be read like a spread of tarot cards – it is unsettling and I feel vulnerable. You know all my deepest secrets now – do I live up to being worthy of the love you so freely gave? I fail in words, thoughts and actions left and right on a daily basis. On this Earth, no matter how close, we all still see each other at a slight distance. Things look prettier from far away. But I imagine in this Other Place everything is laid out bare. My imperfections can not be hid and every single flaw there for inspection. I know – I do – that nothing I could have done could have changed these outcomes, but I crave your forgiveness anyway.
I must become water now. You two were water once, seeping in through the cracks of my self-made barriers and allowing me to float in your love. I must become the water of a raging river and wash those barriers away to let others in. I must become the steady drip of a woman who keeps moving, no matter what. I will become a sea, large enough to carry my ship and other’s too. And I will carry you with me always, always, always.