Sometimes, death is sudden. And it’s rarely easy to deal with even if the person was fictive kin. In seven days my world shifted. Someone who I thought I had more time with, left this earth and with it he took a piece of my foundation. What he left behind was a new normal, a collateral right in the midst what still feels very wrong. Ironically, his absence created an avenue for a different foundation to be built.
Richard, you never wanted to be the center of attention, yet your life drew people to you. Your circles grew and touched others in ways I never knew until you were gone. Myself and other core members of your family connected over our grief. We took care of each other in the same ways we took care of you. We found a center in each other, planted in love and a new normal after being rocked to the core.
We packed your things. Found new homes for your items. I got your shoes. Your feet were smaller than mine so your shoes don’t quite fit, just like life doesn’t quite fit in your absence. An absence I’m reminded of every time I put on what was yours.
My grief is the mud. My art is the seed. I let it grow. Let it bloom so that the focus is on the color of the wisdom you left in our lives. I will love you forever and I won’t stay in the mud. It is the base for what is planted. That which grows to better heights.