Day of the Dead

October 31, 2020

Dear diary,

I died today. And yes, I’m still here. I’ve gone back to be part of Mother Earth. I am now part of her air, her dirt, her rainfall, her wind. It’s so much better this way. My small ego isn’t struggling with an identity crisis every other day. I’m still with my family as I move through them and bare witness to their lives. Yes, they are still struggling with their own little egos, but I still love them very deeply. I want to let them know that it will be okay, but they are stuck in their own vortex of unknowing anxiety. If only they could trust the process of evolution. Surrender to being present now. And in doing so be liberated. Be kind now. Honor the human in front of you. Practice love. Practice joy.

But right now, mom is distraught. And she finds herself in the negative spiral of shoulda and coulda. Mom notices the negativity. She is now practicing gratitude. She is thinking of how we first met. She is thinking of the swoosh of my gills. She is feeling the warmth of my love. She is mourning the solitude of death. She is grateful of all the love I gave her. She is mournful of the quantity of time we shared. She is grateful of the time we had. She is hurting. But that comes with love.

I think it’s kind of cool that I died on Halloween, a day of remembering and celebrating the dead. It’s fitting. I love it. I hope mom can find the love and humor of this occasion. I love her so much.

Happy Halloween.

Love, Bob