I see you everywhere you know. Well duh, of course, you do. Sitting on the couch casting smirks as I creak like the tree I am doing yoga out in front.

I feel your warmth in the blankets I surround myself in, and hear your words as I wrap them around my head to sit and meditate. The small drops scattered across my yoga mat are not from a hard sweat tonight. Each tear holds the weight of my heart for you.

When I really try to think (and I know you’d call me on such a silly sentence) about why I feel (great now I’m thinking about feelings, again, the jokes continue) sorrow and heartache for your passing, I don’t think I cry for me.

We’ve lived several lifetimes together. We got so much out of us, life required payment. Yes, as I type this I would rather have been the one who picked up the cheque. Yet if truly reversed and I were to see you grieve my passing from the other side, I too would send you beautiful sunsets and make rainbows from your tears to try and cheer you up. To see the smile which lights up more than a room, it powers entire universes for millennia.

I think I’m saddest most for those who were too afraid to love you, or maybe too scared to admit it. My sorrow is for everyone who didn’t completely adore you, then say it.

There will always be more earthly lessons your wonderfully witchy words could deliver to everyone around you, and your physical presence will be missed dearly. Your legacy lives on forever and on purpose with those you’ve cultivated around you. As we all have done.

To anyone who isn’t Tambara, thank you for reading. I care about this woman tremendously as she’s been a constant in my life from Maine to Arizona and so much more. I hope you, me, and I, take a couple of extra moments to cherish everyone you care for, those you might be a bit short-tempered with, are kind to the homeless who might not have anyone else who cares for them, and in all reality, everyone.

Never underestimate the power of the Individual.

Here is a short poem for your reading pleasure since you’ve made it this far:

Beneath a tree

that hums with bees,

As little flowers fall.

I’ll sit and ponder

thoughts of my lost lover,

Though she is hardly lost at all.

She rests with me

beneath a tree,

As little flowers fall.