I take on the night
A spool of spider string is sewn through me and the heart of the North Star 
I let the crisp air of the heavens kindle the chord
The connection a rarity, little known 
Soon a Ravens wing will catch the thin edge
Bleating rain will lacerate our connection
Or simply the wind will rush too hard
And like a wire broken from circuit 
The energy will dissipate 
Like a million icy fireflies 
Into oblivion

These bones you took for granted have 24 hours of life left in them and I'm using the time to tell you how much I love you.

Though the soul we share will live on forever, the life you're living has an expiration date. You'll find at my stage, however, the significance and eternity in every moment.

I don't want to tell you who you married, how many kids you had, or where your career took you. I will tell you however that the final exams you're studying for right now will pass, you will pass, and your life will be filled with so many more significant, beautiful things. Chin up, honeybun.

I can hear you screaming, "Tell me his name!" but I'll let you find that out on your own. I will tell you that the definition of love you know now will change and expand, encompassing more than butterflies and kisses. Besides, what fun is opening the gifts before Christmas?! What fun is skipping to the end of a book?!

I want to let you know all your fears about waisting time and not being good enough existed only in your head. You are brave and courageous, and the more you live, the more you'll see it.

I know you've always been afraid of anesthesia. This week alone I've been under 4 times. This morning they stopped trying to find out what was wrong.

You wrote a poem about wishing for the vines of the earth to reclaim you when you die. I am writing this under a resuscitation machine, but I can tell you my heart and soul are ready to become one with the universe. My ashes are being used to grow a tree. Remember that interesting post you saw on Tumblr years ago? The hubby had it arranged.

He's fairing, but I can see the pain in his eyes. We've had quite the ride.

You and I- we're natural worriers aren't we? Right now I can say that I hold no worries my dear. You've got 72 years in your earth suit, and quite a happy ending.

Enjoy life.

Blessings,

You