We know now that we will survive, but still have to figure out how to actually live and flourish post you. The means is literally at hand. I got your gold signet ring back from the Virginia State Police recently.
We all have the same ring and choose to wear this family emblem frequently. I am finding myself changed by wearing your ring. My
visceral response to it has surprised me a bit. It/you elevates me
through out my day.
I see the flash of gold on my hand as I rinse out a tea cup and I pray “Please Morgan, help me see things more clearly.” I smile to realize that I now pray to you rather than for you, knowing you are beyond all pain and harm, – angelic now.
Reading in my spot on the couch I turn a page and feel the unaccustomed weight of your ring. I am reminded to give thanks for this day, for the sweet light pressure of Kirby’s doggy chin on my leg. Blessing.
Wearing your ring, the one you were wearing when you were beaten, and your heart stopped beating, is my sacred honor and duty. The beauty of it, the pain of it continues to open me and whisper its teaching. I promise to listen so carefully and to stop grasping worry and fear and constructing barriers to wisdom. Hoping that acceptance and understanding will arrive eventually, I hear, learn, and choose to let the negative slip aside and instead allow growth to have its way – untethered.
Always and always,