Dear Lorenzo

Dear Lorenzo,

I received the gift you sent. Thank-you. And I finally sorted out its meaning. It took me all day to connect the dots. But I finally got it. I am so grateful!

Ever since the day that I saw you at the Cancer Center, my thoughts have been with you. I've been wondering about the state of your body and wondering how you were coping with it. I've been sending you love daily. I'm sure it has been a difficult journey. And now that it is over, I can hear your laughter.

Prior to receiving your gift, I had Christmas with my family. I drove to my mom and dad's house on Christmas Eve, listening to my friend's radio show on the way. You would love my friend. Dr. Roots, we call him. He plays old school rhythm and blues the first hour of his show and reggae the second. Dr. Roots is a holy man. He truly emits Love and Light. Just like you. During a voice break, he wished his listeners a blessed Christ mass and he told us to, "Make a joyful noise!"

Something inside of me clicked into an awareness of a new level of responsibility. I have to step it up in my life. It is not enough to practice gratitude, to feel the grace of abundance. I must celebrate this gratitude by making "a joyful noise." I must speak my gratitude, sing it, yell it, clang it, bang it, ring it, strum it, clap it, tap it. I must sound off: "Present!"

I was so overcome by the Love issuing forth from the radio on Christmas Eve that I called Dr. Roots to thank him. In his gracious manner he told me that he can only give what others reflect back to him. So he thanked me for receiving and reflecting the Light.

I slept under the Christmas tree at my parent's house. The 50 Christmases of my life swirled in my mind as I watched the twinkling lights reflect off the ceiling and walls. They all - even those that occurred during the most turbulent of times - contain the commonality of gratitude, peace and supreme Love. No matter what, I always seem to be able to find these qualities.

Christmas morning was charming. My mother and I exchanged gifts before anyone else awoke. My sister cooked breakfast for my mother and me. My father had a terrible chest cold and sequestered himself off from the rest of us. I crept in to see him when I knew he was awake and gave him my love. I took Toby the dog for a walk through the woods. We came back covered with beggar's lice.

The day progressed. My great aunt arrived with her date. She is a youthful 86 and is another Being of Light. I am certain the two of you will meet one day. My brother, my nephew, my other sister and my brother-in-law arrived and we sat down to our Christmas feast. Afterwards, we exchanged gifts: material goods that symbolize our love for each other. My gift to everyone was the random chaos of a dirty Santa game. I had procured lots of items for cheap or free from various sources, wrapped them in Christmas packaging and placed them in a pile. Each member of my family proceeded to pick from the pile or take the gift of someone else that had already been opened.

The results were unexpected. A temporary fight broke out between my two sisters over an article of clothing. My nephew sulked over receiving no toys. My brother ended up with the toy-like gifts that I had hoped my nephew would somehow receive - as well as a relatively tacky beach shirt, which seemed to make him exceedingly happy. This is the same brother with whom I have a long and tumultuous history. I think I completely unintentionally managed to make him the happiest of anyone.

I can hear you laughing as I write this.

After the gift-giving extravaganza, people began to leave. My father joined me and my sisters in the living room and all three of them proceeded to fall asleep. It was at this point that I began to feel the inexplicable heaviness setting in. I arose and began to gather all my things. Before I left, I showed my father a couple of videos of arias from Rigoletto sung by Renato Bruson. I am overcome with emotion when I see these videos. And I attributed my approaching sorrow to having watched them.

I left my parent's house and drove back to Greensboro. On the way, I called my daughter to see how her Christmas had been. We chatted briefly and upon hanging up I felt the sorrow becoming more pronounced. I miss her. And my son. He lives in New York now as well. I don't think you met him. He's an impressive entity. At any rate, I attributed the welling sorrow to the fact that I missed seeing my children on Christmas.

Once home, my boyfriend came over. We laid in bed together reading. I turned to him at one point and said, "I don't know why I feel so sad." He asked me if anything had happened. "No," I said. "There is no reason for me to be sad. It was a good day. Nothing bad happened." He held me as tears rolled down my cheek. I breathed deeply and returned to my book. I read until the heaviness set in and pulled me under the waves of consciousness.

And then I received your gift. It took the form of an elaborate dream. I was at a university. I was marginally involved in theater projects as well as discussions on film and film-making. I belonged to a writing group. I felt completely vital. Everything was of quintessential importance in my mind - each passing conversation, each spirited discussion, each performance, every creation. I was in my element. And radiantly happy. A man took an interest in me. And I welcomed his interest happily, not as an indicator of an impending romance but as an indicator of the creative life ahead of me.

I awoke this morning wanting to linger in my dreamland. But I arose and proceeded to check in on my facebook world. It was in this way that I learned you died last night. I was immediately relieved to understand the source of the sadness I had experienced. On some level, I sensed and responded to your passage without knowledge of it. I did not feel the impact of loss upon receiving this news. But I felt more and more confused as the day wore on.

At work, when Pam learned of your death, she said, "Now we can talk to him whenever we want."

Doug reminded me that "we have to stay strong."

Cindy's eyes welled up with tears when she learned.

I found myself becoming irritable at work. I spoke words of veiled anger. I grew weary and depressed.

After work, I spoke with Mekare about your passage. She informed me that it is possible to receive teachings from you during this time if I remain open.

My boyfriend came over to my apartment and I immediately had to lie down. He approached my bed to check on me. Tears slid down my cheek as I told him that you had sent me a dream but I did not understand its meaning. He asked me what the dream was about and as I spoke of the events in it, I realized what you needed to tell me.

To experience awe and wonder is to be in my right station in Life. To be aware of the tiniest, most seemingly insignificant details and marvel at their existence. This and nothing more is my purpose: to exist in joyous wonder.

When this became clear, I saw your beaming face as you exclaimed with exuberance, "You got it!" And then I heard your hearty laugh.

Your generosity of spirit carried me through many troubling times. You gave me so much during your sojourn on earth. And now that you are traveling on your next adventure, I anticipate periodic messages from you. We will continue our journey together, despite the fact that I will no longer see your physical body. I can feel you as strongly as ever.

I love you. Be happy and free. All is as it should be. All is well.