I am watching my son grieve the loss of his partner, Bill. I am stunned by the grace by which he faces this grief. He meets it daily as he takes on tasks completely new to him: calling people to break the news, helping to give away his partner’s belongings, choosing a few special items to keep himself. And those acute moments where he turns to tell Bill something–only to remember that he is gone. I clearly remember my mother going through that after my father’s fatal heart attack.
I cannot relieve my son’s pain. I can only love him unconditionally, and listen with care when he needs to talk. Or wail. Or have moments of anger that Bill didn’t attend to the clear symptoms that something was amiss.
Here we are in this raw, tender vessel called life–one big living, dying, birthing, exploding wonder. Awareness, seemingly playing out in this field called manifestation, yet never taking form, or changing form, at all.
© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
photo credit
the heart of the matter 
Here is where the rubber hits the road. In our grief and our losses, our anger and pain.
Oh Amrita, I honor your compassionate heart – which is so beautifully balanced by your radical wisdom.
I am shuffling the chairs and cushions … Bill has a warm, safe place in my heart. No questions asked.
m
By some strange mis-read, I thought that Bill was your son’s name. Now I understand that Bill is the one your beloved son lost. I hold them both, equally, in my heart.
m
I am so sorry, Amrita.
Love to you, Raven and all concerned as you live this emotional time
Sending love and peace and gratitude for you and your son. And your open sharing…….so comprehensively and wisely articulated.
Love to all involved. – d
Oh Amrita,
I am so so sorry…and so young…what an amazing sharing…I am particularly moved by your description of your son’s grace…very very moving…my love to you and your son in this time of grieving…
Very sorry Amrita. Raven is fortunate to have you at his side. I feel your loss.