In the aftermath of Nan's passing, I discovered an unexpected peace, and the presence of a spirit who had guided me in life, and would continue to do so beyond the veil of death.
"We still have lots of things to do together, and we had no time for everything we needed to do."
"I told her it is all right to be weak, just this once — to let the hands that held us all together finally rest."
My letter to the Universe, written in the space between grief and grace, as my grandmother lies in a hospice far across Europe, still breathing, but already halfway home.
On the return of old demons, the slow loss of the woman who saved me, and the fierce refusal to surrender the peace I fought so hard to find.