“I feel the winds of the west; outbreath; letting go of my leaves; all I do not need. Into the darkness of the fall sunset; I release, receive; getting ready for the silence.” -Ayla Nereo, Winds of the West
Tonight at 4pm were calling hours for my Grandfather, Reverend Richard Hardy. I am not there in physical form, but will attend his funeral at the Nelson church tomorrow. In lieu, I went for a walk to catch the last light of the day before the sun sank beneath the horizon. A dramatic angle of light pierced through the clouds illuminating the red sumac and wild rose hips. A cardinal, just as red as the hips, joined me by the brook.
Auspiciousness filled air. Spirits danced in every blade of grass and barren branch. I walked through vegetation that was once thick and impassable only because it had died back in the frosts. This is fall. Leaves let go of their branch and we can see further through the forests. In this time of Metal, we are invited to fill our lungs with clarity as we allow for elimination through the large intestine.
What is now revealing itself that may have been hidden before?
The revelations continue the more I grieve the death of my mother’s parents. An entire generation lost. What is there to hold on to? What will I refuse to forget? What do I choose to set aside that does not serve me any longer?
The memories float through my mind all day and night. Dreams are more real than the waking hours.
An opportunity to take some time to remember is a blessing. Death is a blessing. Saying goodbye is a blessing. Every moment, then and now, are blessings.
Grandpa Hardy was a powerful and deeply spiritual figure. He was tapped into the greatness of something much larger than anyone will ever know. I am filled with joy. After 96 years, he returns to the wonder and mystery where we all begin and end. He is reunited with his beloved, Helen. May the two of them hold hands and smile at us from above like two shining stars.
As I walked home, a rainbow appeared in the northeast, the direction of the calling hours, to signify they have begun. My lips formed a small shy smile. How precious a moment to cherish forever. With no camera in hand, I’ll just have to remember. That is all we have, after all. As my smile grew bigger, so did the rainbow. We smiled brightly at one another, rainbow and I.
Grandpa deserves the honor of the Great Spirit in every form imaginable- whether rainbows, hawks, owls, trees, rivers, ministers, God- they are all one. He was all heart, and deeply committed to serving others.
Bless his body and being as it returns to essence. His physical body will be buried beneath the Earth where his dear Helen lay almost three years ago. Peace, peace, peace. May it be so, and so it is.
Aho. Shalom. Amen.
4 responses to “Winds of the West”
Hannah, so sorry for your loss. Sounds like you have such a wonderful grandfather spirit that will always be part of you, forever. Very lucky.
That was beautifully written and a wonderful way to honor both your grandparents. They too are lucky. Blessings and love, Sarah
Thanks, Sarah! Great to see you last weekend at the market. Many blessings and love to you too! XO
How beautiful Hannah. Magical really…..sending love your way and to your family!!! xox Christina
Thanks, Christina! Sending you love wherever the wind has taken you these days. XOX