A Letter Home
Jul 30, 2020 01:40PM
By Amber McKenzie
been exactly four years since liftoff. The day your soul returned home, and we
started the process of living this life without you. I’m not going to lie; it
hasn’t been easy. I miss our Sunday dinners, birthday celebrations, trips to
Sandpoint to window shop, and Wolf Lodge for your favorite steak dinner. I miss
your cooking and our long talks on the deck, as well as your sound advice
during rough times—which have been ample this year (haha).
Even though you were there in spirit, we missed you at the birth of your fifth grandchild. You would eat him up—he’s so adorable!! So yeah, it’s been rough not having you “here” for many of these moments, but as you know, I’ve also had some beautiful life experiences since your departure. Because of your passing, I’ve come to more fully understand the preciousness of life and the small moments that mean so much. I no longer take those for granted. I’ve become more connected to my source of light within and have grown to rely on her as much as I once relied on you for guidance and direction.
Your death taught me more about life than any other lesson I could have possibly received, and I value our learning together during those final difficult months. Thanks to you, I’ve come to realize that death is not a life event to be feared or avoided, but instead a “liftoff” of the soul from the body—much like a butterfly releasing from its cocoon. I chose this cover for you, Mom. Every time I see a butterfly, I’m reminded of you in your spirit form. I know you’re free, and exactly where you need to be, and I know I’m here to carry on my own soul’s work without you. As such, I just completed my certification to become an end of life doula so I can help others with this difficult, yet transformational, life event. I have you to thank for that, Mom.
And so, Tony, Shannon and I carry on without you, knowing you are still a strong and powerful presence in our lives and in the lives of your grandchildren. Please continue to watch over us and send signs of your presence in those fun and unexpected ways. We love it when that happens.
Your loving daughter now and forever,
Thank you for
allowing me to share a piece of me with you every month. I hope my words
resonate in your hearts—especially for those who have experienced the pain and
heartache that the death of a loved one brings. During these extraordinary
times of uncertainty we are all facing, I wish you immense joy and comfort in
the ordinary and mundane moments that life allows when we pay attention—the
laughter of a child, the wink from a soul mate, the fluttering butterfly trying
to get your attention, that telephone call from your mom or dad. It is within
these moments that magic is made. And couldn’t we all use a little more magic right
about now? Big love to you all.