As I document the days since my brother’s passing, today I wake feeling a change. I examine the reasons.
First, there is something about Mother’s Day. I see photos of the mothers of friends, comments, love offered and shared, and I feel how our mother and my brother are once again one. I find comfort in that.
Second, I am reading an amazing book, In Love with the World: A Monk’s Journey Through the Bardos of Living and Dying by Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche. At the age of 36, he leaves his identity, privilege and prestige, discards his roles and robes to explore as the Buddha did what “we” really are, the living and dying happening in each of us all of the time.
Reading this book, I understand why I feel my brother so here, so nestled in my heart even as he invites me to look a little more widely and wisely at the wisdom he explored when he was here in a physical touchable form, and as he is now.
As I’ve said, my brother comes to me as various birds. Here he is as a Great Blue Heron crossing the road, a road we all share.