Dear Dotsie, my heart is with you during this time of loss. When my favorite aunt died at age 97, it felt like one of my pillars was taken out from under me, and yet she is so a part of who I am - the best part. Blessings and prayers to you and your family.

Eagle Heart, you keep telling us of more and more losses. Dear one, you are in my heart - the place where love resides.

Vi

Today I got an email from someone who says she's okay with death, that it's the agony of life that bothers her. So I began to think about this. Am I okay with death? To be honest no. But it's not fear of death that I'm talking about. And the agony of life...I'm better with that.

First the death thing. It's selfishness, I guess. When someone I care about is gone, I miss them. I miss what they represented in my life too. In the last few years a number of my parents' generation in my family have passed. With their passings, even though I may not have seen them for years, I became aware that I miss what they represented when I was a kid - a safe, kindly place to be. I miss the period when, at least in my world, things were more innocent. I miss the hard working integrity of that generation, something that each subsequent generation seems to lack a little more than the last one. But mostly, I miss being able to go see someone if I want to. I think - they are now gone from this dimension, and this period of learning is over for them. It saddens me - for them. Yet, I know that's okay. I know they are okay. I know I am okay. But there's this void, the place that they used to occupy, and I don't like it.

As for the agony of life - there certainly are a lot of them. And in the middle of all the various agonies, life is very difficult, sometimes wrenching. But after each set of agonies I know I have grown. So for me these things are good.

Then there's the intellectualization of it all. As a writer I do that with everything. This is a good thing in that the process can be enlightening, mentally. But sometimes the over intellectuallization of something makes me miss the point. Sitting with something and not thinking about it can be very good too.

What do you all think about this? I'd like to know.

Vi, you put it so eloquently...the aching void, the agony of absence, the questioning and growing into that "I'm okay". And Julie, I was really struck by your line "there is no one standing between us and mortality. We are next."

I've been traveling through it all because of so many losses lately. I think I've made it safely through, except for the lingering fear of "who's next?" At our age, most are going or on their way out, so more loss is inevitable, but that knowing still brings angst and sadness to my being.

But I'm trying to counter that fear and sadness with a growing sense of responsibility for myself to live each of MY days with abundant joy and meaning. And to love everyone I cherish with respect, compassion and mercy so that their lives are somehow easier and less fraught with agony and angst.

In the end, it really is love that matters, and love that pulls us through, isn't it. It's the love here at BWS that has been helping me to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart, put them back together again and find ways to live with more joy and hope than agony and angst. And it's the healing love I find here that makes me in turn want to companion others through their agony until they too can find some measure of joy and meaning in the midst of that loss and void.

I think that might be one of "the tickets" Vi -- what people represented to us -- like a safe and kindly place to be ---

by learning through the agony of losing a loved one -- realizing what they offered us -- we can "improve" upon ourselves -- and turn around and be that safe and kindly place for the ones coming up behind us ----

thus -- Life comes around full circle

and if we listen -- those very special people will still whisper words of wisdom in our ears

Amen.

lion, beautiful!

Eagle, grieving without regret is so much easier. I'm so glad to hear you've moved in that direction. It's so easy to look back on the life of a loved one who has died and say, "I shoulda, I coulda", but it gets us nowhere.

I am a very strong-willed person. So was Mom. Sometimes we butt heads. Now that she's gone I wish I had been gentler to her, of all people. After all, she loved me unconditionally. This is one of the reasons I am working on my relationships while people are still here on earth. Of all the people in the world, I was hardest on Mom. I guess it's because I knew how deeply she loved me, and I her.

Eagle, after Mom died I started forming a little club (in my mind) of friends whose mom's had also died, or have died since. You are a member of my little club. It's tough losing Mom, isn't it?

Dearest Dotsie, I still wake up crying some mornings because I miss her so much. I think I have been seeing her in my dreams lately, because I always wake up feeling like I've had to leave her again...those seem to be the mornings that I wake up crying inconsolably.

And anytime we talk about her (or Moms in general) here, I end up dissolving in tears. It's taking a long time to get through this grief, but you are helping me immensely because of your own experience and wisdom that you generously share with me.

The whisper that comes softly, the feather touch, the breeze that caresses, the visions, the dreams with more "body" - there are so many ways our departed loved ones come to us, very real ways. As grief clears the veil between us and our loved ones partially dissolves. It is so cool.

Vi