i rose early with the keen understanding, even in those first-awake cobwebbed thoughts, that such a day as the one in front of me would be only about you.
i moved quietly about and lit nag champa in every room, sat on the pillow and held the mala, bead by bead, 108 inhales and exhales, imagining your face between each movement of breath. filled the walls, the ceiling, the windows, each chair, each picture, each light, every object, with your laughter that i could still hear, your hands that in my mind's deep corridors i could still touch, filled it all until every space around me held me like the comforting embrace of a friend. that was my meditation. for you.
then i got in the car and drove, blasted joni mitchell, played river, over and over and over again, singing, for you, at the top of my lungs. stopped at Joe's for clove cigarettes and headed for Evergreen. on the way i saw a woman selling flowers on the roadside, spotted the daisies and knew I had to get them, spent all my lunch and dinner money and bought every last one of them. drove to the cemetary, set the daisies at your headstone. laid on the grass and smoked a clove or two and watched the cloud formations, looking for your face like i used to look for God's when i was a little girl.
last stop, Two Lights and that little cave where we spent hours getting high, reciting our awful poetry, making ever-changing lists of what our perfect lovers would be like and cursing out loud whoever our current bad lovers were, dreaming and planning for better days ahead, thinking time was our ally and not our enemy, not understanding in our careless youth that at those very moments we were sitting in the center of absolute perfection.
i spent an hour watching a loon, all alone, flying about, diving for fish, splashing and playing in the water, until finally, he just sat, floating on the waves, holding himself so still it was as if he were meditating and completely unaware that each rolling wave was moving him further and further out to sea.
his drifting away reminded me of you, you who dove in head first and fearless and splashed and played in the ocean of life, unaware of the cost of that one imperfect lover, you who suffered that price with such steady grace, your anathema to pain... and death. and of how we all watched you slowly disappear, as each day like a wave, each wave like a moment, moved you further and further and further away from us, until, finally, you dissolved into the air altogether. beyond our touch. beyond our view. beyond our world.
our world that was then richer and more magical and more breathtakingly beautiful and filled with brilliant colors we had never before seen...all because of you and your far-too-short but ever-so-sweet visit to it.