I took a long walk on Ocean Beach in the Outer Sunset today. The churning waves of my blue pacific greeted me as she always does with cold water and a cold breeze.
Six months ago I sprinkled a small vial of my Mali’s ashes down at the foot of Taravel and the Great Highway. Paddling her out to a soft part of the Pacific and letting that small part of her go.
It’s December now. I pay homage to the beauty and graceful soul she was. Collecting sand dollars that have washed up it hit me. That beautiful creature is gone. For a long while my heart breaks all over again.
That bitter cruel reality of her loss washed over me like the waves do. I can’t breathe. For a moment the idea of slipping into the water and letting go of me crosses my mind.
All my hopes for the future with her are gone. She is gone. She is gone. She is gone.
This last week has been spent reflecting on my life of the past and looking at the door to a future I really have no inclination of opening. I know it’s there, that heavy door and I can accept that. I am just not ready to open it and cross the threshold.
Mali, if you can hear me, I love you and I miss you. This is a shitty hand and I am going to have to fold. There are always other hands to be dealt, but, for now I am going to hang on to these cards and take you with me wherever I go.
Remembering Mali 