My friend ysabetwordsmith is having a poetry fishbowl on the 13th of October. This month's theme is horror. I'm particularly intrigued to see what occurs around the shapeshifting theme, as I have a penchant to shapeshifters and shapeshifting myself. Ysabet is very talented at putting random ideas into effective poetry; I invite you all to stop by and feed the fish!

I spent Beltane weekend waiting with a dear friend of mine while she died. Of course, being a very devout Pagan High Priestess, there was no way she was going to die at a festival of fertility; she waited patiently until it was passed, then slipped quietly away.

Now, at 50-something, I've experienced my share of bereavements. But this one really had me reeling. Why? Well, I'd known this woman for well over 2 years. We worked together. We lost our jobs with one company on the same night, and we started working for a different company within weeks of each other. We took our breaks together. We shared morning coffee and a jigsaw puzzle together. We walked the dogs together. We visited after work every night. And we never met face to face until 2 hours before she died.

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be feeling. My life is certainly emptier without her in it. I feel lost, not telephoning her between clients at work, or playing cards online with her in the evenings. There are all the little things that I would share with her, all life's little nuances and synchronicities that would really make us giggle in awe and wonder at how the Universe was unfolding. Not since I lost my Medicine Elder did I have a friend who was so totally on my wavelength. And I met her 2 hours before she died.

I shared this with another friend, who commented that it may be harder to lose our 'chat buddies', because our minds have to work so hard to build up an identity for them. I've been thinking about that a lot. I'm guessing that the way our mind works, it is similar to the differences between watching a movie, or listening to a radio play, or reading the book. Different levels of mental stimulation are required.

I don't know if this makes it harder, because they are not as 'flesh and blood' in our lives, or easier, for the same reason. All I know is my life is quieter now. The evolved spiritual being in me is totally accepting, its all just as it should be, and she lives on in the kindness of her actions, the generosity of her deeds, and in spirit. There is no death, only evolution. But deep in the very core of my being is a five-year-old child, stomping its feet and throwing a fit, because she misses her playmate.

Journey well, dear one. You will be missed until I too cease to breathe.