the folding of the wings

A dear old friend passed the other day. Passed as in died.

It had been years since I'd seen her, even though she only lived an hour away. I spoke with her a couple years ago, and meant to make - and keep - plans to get together, but never did.  A few months ago I got word that she was terminally ill, and even though there was part of me that wanted to go see her, wanted to say goodbye, there was another, obviously stronger part that just...didn't.

So I didn't.

And now she's gone beyond the veil, and I hope she forgives me for being such a terrible friend. Or not a friend.

The fact is I really am a terrible friend.  I'm not sure why, but I am. I don't stay in touch, I go incommunicado for years at a time, I don't call or write or visit...and yet, for some reason that I don't comprehend, people still love me, and rally 'round to offer support when I need it, and miss me when I'm gone (which is always).

There will be a celebration of my friend's life later this week, at the home she loved so, for the people who love her. As much as I want to be there, I think I forfeited that right by not visiting when she was alive.

I love you, Georgie.  As long as I can I will look at this world for both of us.

George Anne Egerton
April 6, 1931 - August 11, 2011

Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.

Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain into songs.
Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest.
Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night.
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way.

~ Rabindranath Tagore



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