Random Sagittarian Bluntness: To Know What Angels Know

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While grappling with the memories we struggle not to lose, amidst the mundane trudging of everyday life, we gasp, cry and stare into a night that may or may not be there. Though many times we have parroted our limited knowledge of this life and the next, we are no less questioning and lost in this new moment of awareness.

All at once everything seems trivial in the midst of a loved one’s transition into the everlasting arms of mysterious tomorrow. Work, appointments, dinner and even the slow dance of the sun into the embrace of the moon all seem secondary to the feelings of loss. In one breath of knowledge, one is lost and the rest, now holding the fragile, tissue paper hearts of love, wish that they were.

Gripped with furious mind, we wish to fly with angels and know all that angels know—privy to all secret whispers alight upon flight and feather. We wish to follow, though chained to this heavy, slowly shifting Earth for some undetermined amount of time.

We long for the place where loved ones travel without ticket, passport or border—free of the unplanned, chaotic trespasses of pain, betrayal and loss of love. We learn quickly to watch the telephone—in constant anticipation of a voice we will never hear again except in dreams and random glimpses of clarity.

We take turns consoling each other, for all are never totally free of the possibility of loss. We stumble over good intentions and phrases we feel are comforting because we have heard them since we were able to listen. But when you’ve lost enough souls tied to your heart, you understand that the best consolation is always solidarity.

Until we can rejoin our family beyond the veil, solidarity will be our truth. It keeps us buoyant in the choppy, menacing, tear-filled waters and grounded on the scorching, uncertain road we must move upon, step after arduous step. You are well aware that you are in good company with others that remain. So it is in our understanding that we do not shy away from finding strength in another story. In the raw, unflinching cycle of the undisciplined art of saying goodbye we all are family here.

When the dice are thrown in this game, the only sanity that remains is to work through sleepless dreams and leave a legacy. Our legacy is hopefully a just tribute to the beautiful ones we must now mourn the loss of.

-Trina Noelle

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