Pebble Number Fourteen: Carrying Each Other

January 14, 2014

Final breaths pour like tea from a kettle that is over full. There is effort in the transition, but also love and beauty. We all sat in a circle, transfixed on the heaving of her chest as we chanted the Lord’s Prayer, calling her home with hands connected in a circle of love. The sound of our voices reverberated through the sparsely furnished room that held two Christmas trees, rein deer, and an Easter rabbit in perpetual holiday splendor.  She opened her eyes one last time. At first she looked into the distance, but then she willed her walnut colored irises towards  each face for a final time. I offered smiles laced with tears and shouts of I love you as she relaxed into that final rest. When her body stopped, we were in awe of her spirit, which had taken flight in front of us. The power of connection offered her the path towards heaven. As Bono croons in the radio of my memory, “We’re not the same, but we get to carry each other.” Today we carried when the heavens called.


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