Gentle

Dear loves, 

This word has been popping up frequently in describing me. Gentle. 

It’s not a word I would have used to describe myself. Gentle. 

And I’m honored by it. 

How does one speak gently about death?

One walks in slowly, patiently. One doesn’t rush in.

One takes a deep breath before talking. And then speaks from the greatest well of love they can find.

One holds space for whatever another might believe exists beyond. And asks about that too.

Gentle does not mean we ignore or avoid it. Quite the opposite, we embrace. We find God in it. 

The evening before Tom passed away, I sat with him. He could barely speak but his eyes and the squeeze of his hand in mine showed he was both very much alive and with me. 

What I didn’t say: 

Don’t go.

I can’t live without you.

I’m not ready.

What I did say: 

You have been so very important to me. Throughout my life, you’ve always been one of the first people I’ve wanted to introduce my loves to. The pull in me to introduce you to them has always been a sign that this person is really significant.

Remember when I took notes and drew maps about your favorite places to see in the Netherlands and Germany? I’m taking the kids there. We’ll follow your routes.

You have prepared me so well for this. There is nothing more I need. I love you. You can go.

And early the next morning he was gone. 

with great love for your life and those you love,

kristin


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