Change is the only constant in our lives. November has arrived and with it the early morning brisk sunrises, the hope that the sun will warm us as he passes along his path. Sweatshirts and jeans are calling from my closet, a hot cup of tea, a snuggle with the dog. Part of me mourns the passing of the warmer days, I keep my window open at night listening to songs of the creatures who grace the darkness. The colder nights they become quieter, the songs recede, the stars twinkle brighter in the depths of colder skies.
Change is coming, change is only the flow of life through the passing of the seasons. In our world time is linear, the sunrises and then sets, the moon’s phases mark the month, the earth mirrors back to us the passage of time with her seasons.
In hospice I watch the final seasons evolve to a higher plane of existence. My little lady lies in wait, her body finding winter, cold and barren, her breathing shallow as if to question whether to see another sunrise, another phase of the moon. She lies in waiting, no longer hunger urging her, no longer consumed with the worries of humans, no longer aging. She waits for the moment, when all of her thoughts turn from this world to the next. She waits for the leap of faith, the walking from this world to the next, the leaving behind the mortal flesh with gratitude and no regrets. Her life’s work accomplished, she survived the changes and challenges that life demanded of her. Her legacy of heart, sweet and endeared to be remembered.
We wait for the change; we lay witness to her transition. I kiss her forehead ever grateful for the honor of sharing her journey. She and I have come full circle. She and I have completed the spiritual agreement laid in place eons ago, and now it is fulfilled.
The change is coming, and the world will be a better place for it, bittersweet our human hearts, joyful our spiritual hearts.