In honor of the 11th anniversary of Josiah's death (one day late).
"... it is possible a great energy
is moving near me.
I have faith in nights."
--Rainer Maria Rilke, A Book for the Hours of Prayer
I am the turning page.
I am smack dab in the middle of chapters, pressed together between a strong forefinger and thumb, suspended in the air, waiting for what's next. I want this pause to be over, to be able to move on to the next part of the story, but it just isn't time yet.
"I am the rest between two notes...
And the song goes on, beautiful."
My heart is like a trick knee that senses when there's a storm coming. The aches have been coming on extra strong this year, and I want to believe that the rain that's ready to pour will be the cleansing, not the flooding, kind.
But the truth is I have been practiced at preparing myself for the worst, and it's not lost on me why.
"We have been taught that death is always followed by more death. It is simply not so, death is always in the process of incubating life, even when one's existence has been cut down to the bones."
--Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves
So I am bracing myself for what's ahead, knowing it may come soft and quiet, like a gently turning page or a drizzling rain.
The clouds have gathered and I don't know what's coming. So I wait. I'm still waiting.