The death of anyone close to us is always a form of salutation, a simultaneous good-bye to their physical presence and a deep hello to a more intimate imaginal relationship now beginning to form in their absence.
Leave room in your heart for the Mystery.
Come, let's away to prison:
We two alone will sing like birds in a cage:
When thou dost ask me blessing,
I'll kneel down,
And ask of thee forgiveness:
so we'll live,
and pray, and sing,
and tell old tales, and laugh
at gilded butterflies ...
and take upon us the mystery of things,
as if we were God's spies ...