Messenger of Joy, of Love, and Light.

From my lookout at La Paloma Observatory, I gaze west, Across Colina del Sol, to where the ocean rests. In sunsets’ golden glow, I sense you near, My sister Michelle, your absence so clear.

I miss you dearly, your laughter, your light, In the hush of the evening, and the deepening night. The world feels colder, the days seem long, Without you here, where you belong.

Yet in moments of quiet, a tiny bird appears, A hummingbird, bringing whispers of what I hold dear. In many lands, this bird is a sacred sign, A bridge between worlds, the spirit's design.

Messenger of joy, of love, and light, With each fluttering wing, it lifts my plight. It dances with the sun, it drinks from the flowers, A symbol of hope in my darkest hours.

Michelle, in every sunset, in the vibrant sky, In the hummingbird’s flight, I feel you nigh. Your presence in the twilight, a comforting grace, A reminder of love that time can't erase.

I see you in the sunsets, the colors so bright, I feel you in the little birds, their joyful flight. In the silence of the evening, your spirit I trace, I love you, my sister, and I feel your embrace.

Though you are gone, you are never far, In the beauty of nature, in each twinkling star. The hummingbird's visit, a gentle reprieve, Lifts me from sadness, reminds me to believe.

Michelle, your memory, a beacon so strong, Guides me through sorrow, helps me along. In the westward gaze, across the sea, You are here, in the heart of me.

 

A Found Presence in Empty Sorrow

 

The hallways here were reminiscent of those at the hospital where Michelle had received her care, so she told. The imagined similarities struck a painful chord within me, the déjà vu of sorrow. But amidst the clinical environment, a dark hallway led me to a sculpture. It was of thoughtful form, shaped by hands that clearly understood grief. The piece stood as a silent testament to loss and resilience.

In front of this sculpture, I found an unexpected sense of calm. The hands that had created it seemed to hold my sorrow, allowing me to feel less alone in my grief. A wave of peace washed over me, mingled with sadness. I began to cry, a light smile forming on my lips as memories of Michelle's bravery filled my heart. I couldn't tell which came first, the tears or the smile.

My sister had been so brave. Her strength and spirit lingered in my mind, a constant reminder of the transient nature of life. Michelle, I miss you every day. Life moves so quickly, in the blink of an eye, it changes. As I stood there, in a place that was not so much the place she walked, but it would have felt so similar, I felt her presence. I whispered to myself, "I'll see you soon," feeling the bittersweet blend of loss and love.

Leaving the sculpture behind, I continued my search for the biorepository. The sadness was still there, but it was softer now, tinged with the calm that had washed over me. I realized that even in places I would rather not be, I could find moments of peace and connection. Michelle's memory was with me, guiding me through the cold hallways, reminding me that I was not alone.

I miss you sister!!