Josh Father Maui death

I follow my feet, they lead me down a path to the cliffs’ edge.
I like the thickness of the grass.
It adds an extra layer of mystery to it.
The rocks hold me up to this present moment against the breath of the wind and the call of the ocean.
I surrender my voice to her majesty as I place prayers into the seeds that will hold Olena tight and carry her through the night.
I close my eyes to the image that repeats, again… standing on the bridge ready to take flight, lungs filled with air anticipated and adrenaline gives the final push – two seconds of bliss before the final and abrupt impact.
I dive down to catch my heart from drowning in this sorrow.
Currents of shock and disbelief swirl around inside my head.
And I am grateful for this tomorrow.
Even greatness slips.
Slips through God’s fingers.
Unable to grasp the magnitude of their own creation in all of its glory.
I weep for the loss the earth felt as one of her great caretakers submerged for the last time.
Never to lay his generous hands to her breast again.
I follow my feet all the way to the bridge.
I like it when the grass comes almost up to my knees.
It makes me feel included in the mystery.
The sun is just peeking over the ocean’s horizon, bathing the flowers and the flag in its golden warmth.
The sun always comes back up.
Josh didn’t come back up.
He took a leap of faith and believed in his own divinity but was challenged by his own mortality.
The instant came and the instant went and the world is forever changed. Legacy thrives in the hearts of the ones who know the depth of this loss. Weaving a basket of inspired deeds and kindness and generosity to help carry sweet Olena in the collective heart.
Prayers run deep and wide bringing moments of peace to the ones who need it most.
And all I can do is follow my feet.

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