thunderstorms (a eulogy)

after two full days of cloudy skies and muggy weather, the storm finally arrived, and rain fell, and lightning flashed, and thunder rolled, and the air was cool and fresh.










i'd like to think it was your grand entrance and arrival up there.
i'd also prefer to think you're watching over us right now.

the song is a string quartet's rendition of "hallelujah" by paramore. it's absolutely beautiful. it's meant for a celebration.
and your life will certainly be celebrated.
you are finally free to climb all the mountains and run as long and as far as you choose.

guess what? i'm going to learn how to dance. real, contemporary dancing. why?
you.
you were so dedicated and determined in all you did, but you never showed one line of it in your face. you were always laughing.

i'm dedicating anything grand in my life to you.








but God, it hurts.

i thought i'd move through the five stages of grief quite slowly, but honestly, the process had begun when i found out you were in that accident.

the anger stage was there and gone quickly. my only show for that was the question "why didn't you hang on? you were stronger than that." and i might linger over that one, but it's not the predominant emotion. i think i'm somewhere between depression and acceptance.

it'll hurt; always. you left a good life behind. one we can remember with bittersweet laughter.
you wanted adventure? "death is but the next great adventure." done with one journey, on to another.
good luck.

and i'll see you, sometime, along the way.

-d