A Different Sort of Dawn

The new year came quietly for me. Open sky and sun, a light breeze chasing the summer heat away as my father and I walked among the flowers of the park and admired the art show displays. Later in the evening, there was a pleasant dinner at a nice little spot out in the neighborhoods away from the hustle of the city. It’s different with just the two of us, but we laugh when we remember her and it’s nice to share the memories without the pall of grief hanging over us.

At one point I tipped my glass to no one in particular and smiled when others looked at me oddly. A small gesture just to show I remembered, even if there was no fanfare to follow it...

I know I haven’t been online. I know I haven’t gone to the chats or done anything of importance for the Epagomenal days, nor did I put forth any ceremony for Wep Ronpet itself. I was aware of the days passing, and there was a moment on Wesir’s birthday when I paused and felt something different about the world—something that made everything seem suddenly brighter and more real and made me notice the air I was breathing and the color of the leaves. And I nodded in respect and said a short prayer. But that was all the ceremony there was for me.

I needed a quiet summer more than I have needed anything in a long time, and after some initial trouble in dreams and a good round of angry tears on the anniversary of my mother going west, I was gifted with the quiet and rest I had asked for.

I am quiet. My heart is quiet…

The sky was tinted rose over the city skyline when we returned to the condo. Every now and then I catch myself walking wide around the seven foot strip of floor where the hospital bed once was, but it’s much easier now to look at her photos and touch things that belonged to her. I still can’t listen to her songs but…one thing at a time. It’s only been a year. 

I know the coming year holds for me the expectation of excitement and change as I go in new directions and move on with all of the things that have stood still for me while I waited out the pain. I know that the memories will fade some as the tireless currents of life sweep me away again on this journey that we all take. But I freely embrace what comes after, because the river of life only flows westward and none of us is given to know how far our branch will take us before we catch up with the setting sun.

So tilt your glass when no one's looking if it's all you have and drink to them and drink to life and remember to keep the moments sacred in your heart even if you are short on sacred moments. The best offering is a life well lived, the best sacrifice, the tears which prove you've lived it.