Here are two images from yesterday.
Top photo: We were on our regular daily walk along Kahala Beach yesterday morning when I got the call with news that my sister had passed away at about 6:35 a.m.
Last night, I looked at the morning’s photos. According to the automatic date/time data recorded by the camera, this photo was taken right at 6:35.
I arrived at Bonnie’s apartment just behind the hospice nurse, who had to certify her death. Then I waited for the crew from the mortuary to arrive to remove her body. Bonnie and I were alone in the apartment longer than usual, as there was apparently some “miscommunication” with the dispatcher.
I looked in on her several times. She was resting on a bed below her collection of hats, some dating back to our Hawaiian grandmother. It felt like a good spot for her to have taken her last breath.
I busied myself calling and texting those who needed to be notified, and making a list of bureaucratic things that would need to be done soon. Then I just sat in silence for a while. Silence is good. Somehow it didn’t seem “spooky” to be there alone with Bonnie.
The mortuary team arrived. They removed Bonnie’s wedding ring and brought it to me.
And when they carried her out of the bedroom, I was struck by how small the well-wrapped package was. We are all, I suppose, somewhat “larger than life.” And when her “life” was gone, what remained was far smaller than what my senses expected.
I will try to remember the former rather than the latter.