As I prepare a last-minute Halloween costume for a party in Dubai—I’m going as a guru, which feels beautifully absurd—I think about my late wife Danae. She crossed the veil 6-years ago today, October 28th. We lived together on this same university campus a decade ago, and probably attended a costume party around this very night (probably with some of the same people). In twenty minutes, my kids and I will go to pick up Cheri, their beautiful mother ("Mama Lama") and my spouse. She’s been gone just shy of three weeks in the U.S. and I miss her bad. The kids miss her bad. We’re building a life here. A grand adventure. An energy field of love.
Yesterday, Finn said, “I wish mommy hadn’t died…but, if she didn’t, Mama Lama wouldn’t be with us, and I love momma lama.” He paused, and then said, “It’s really confusing.”
“Yes it is,” I replied. “But, you know what, it’s okay to want both. Life doesn’t have be one or the other. That’s just what we’re taught to think.”
Our relationship with Danae is, of course, different now. But she continues to soar with beauty and grace through our lives. I can almost hear her lyrical laughter now.
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