Good-bye to John Hewins

Last night I finally got to sleep outside again since last fall and was rewarded this morning by the calls of wild turkeys, pheasants and all the gurglings and chortling cries of the smaller birds.  Now I can hear the seabirds and a persistent crow, and the rooster who lives a half mile or so away...I can think of no better way to start the day.

It is a time of renewal and also of letting go this particular spring.  My dear friend Greg Ewert is leaving this life and it is very hard to believe for many of us, he is so full of life, still.  We all, in our own ways, are honoring his passing by our own particular actions.  For me, sleeping outside and doing whatever I can do around water and boats is honoring Greg and his adventurous spirit.  Wearing my bear earrings and evoking the spirit of the Grizz, learning a story to tell children, being accepting of all...that's all about our Greg.

Last night I also learned of another passing which connects to the core of who I am:  John Hewins, father of my dearly departed Jeff, passed quietly after a long time of getting quieter and dreaming more and more.  He was living in Florida, near his oldest son Johnny.  Jeff's younger brother, Daniel, called to tell me yesterday.  He was a dear kind sweetheart of a person.   I didn't get to know him nearly as well as I'd have liked.

I know it is beyond our comprehension and understanding, but I cannot help but wonder what connections may be made between souls after death occurs.  I like to imagine many of the grand women of Lopez having celestial tea parties and discussing us mortals and our doings as though we are the wayward children we truly are.  I like to think that my mother is at last united with her beloved brother who died too young...and John, is he with Jeff's mom and Jeff now, zooming around the universe in spirit form, unfettered and released from old age and human constraints?  And all the others, where are they, besides our memories?  It seems too coincidental that we have strong remembrances at certain times or certain phenomena occur to remind us of a dead loved one for there not to be a way for them to somehow "see" us still.

My daughter wrote a little song after Jeff died.  She was 13.

Those who cross over
We watch them go
But we cannot follow
It's too far to go
But they're never really lost from us
The gap's not as wide as you may think
The bridge between the worlds
Is but an unmade link...

I wish us all renewal and strong connections to the earth and nature and her songs.  May we realize and act upon the true connections which are the basis for our health and happiness.

Go easy into that good night, John.   May you feel our love with you always.