Wild Rivers, You and I

Where do you begin and where do I end, my daughter? Your being so closely intertwined with mine. You can’t cease to exist because I am here and I know you are, too, somewhere else, yet, close. There is no acceptance, my love, no moving forward because you and I flow together like wild rivers each with its own speed and wilderness. We both run into the deep blue ocean. 

Modern wisdom and tradition want me to mourn you in the limited box of what little we know of life and death, in the shadow of the shallow understanding we have of love and its enduring and transforming qualities. But, as you know, Elira, I have to find out for myself, I have to feel it and let it sit with me. I have to mourn your physical absence in my own terms, in my own language. I have to find out who I am because you died not despite of it.