Recently, I received the call that I knew would come sooner or later from one of my ‘soul’ sisters. The medical team are stopping her chemo, her tumors aren’t responding and hospice has been called. Only a little over a month ago she celebrated her 57th birthday.
Through tears, we spoke of her sadness at leaving her children behind, not being able to see them grow up, graduate and build lives of their own. She is not afraid of death, her greatest pain is the dreams left unfulfilled in a life that cruelly seems too short.
Our conversation was brief as she had to answer another phone call. Standing in the kitchen looking outside at the beautiful spring morning, I wept. Life is like this, I told myself. Time to put on my big girl pants. She will be my first close peer to die and like anything new, the territory takes getting used to.
I stepped onto the deck, took a deep breath and looked at the trees waving in the breeze, listened to birds singing their spring songs; the world all around me in a state of renewal and regeneration, seemingly at odds with what I am facing.
A movement caught my eye and I saw an orange butterfly alight on a quartz stone placed at the edge of the garden bed below me. “Of course,” I thought with a brief smile, “I can count on Spirit to always send me a sign and here it is, a butterfly, the symbol of soul transformation.” Its message was one of comfort, “Things are as they should be, be at peace.”