Are you awake?

Your phone lights up, and a message appears on your screen.

It's from the husband of your very best friend in the entire world, your only family aside from your children, your confidant and love of your life currently battling long COVID in a hospital room. In that single moment, your heart races, and the air in your lungs seems to vanish, leaving you breathless, just like the air escaping from a deflating balloon. 

Peter has left us, he says. 

The subsequent four hours can only be comprehended by those who have experienced a similar call or text. In those moments, I found myself texting my family in Spain, who had embraced Peter as one of their own. I reached out to our mutual friends, my children, and contacted his friends to share the news—all the while, tears streaming down my face. It was during this time that the words 'heart' and 'break' took on a profound new meaning in my life. I finally understood what it meant to feel your heart breaking—physically and emotionally.

I felt sick, like I needed to vomit but not because I had eaten something bad. 

I went to work, I had a property tour scheduled that morning. I didn’t want to let my clients down, so I kept this horrible news to myself for the week, which was very painful for my soul to do. 

Outside of work, my days were marked by tears and a series of heartfelt letters addressed to Peter. I secluded myself from everyone except those tied to work until his wake, which would take place four days later. During those four days, I poured my emotions onto paper, as though the ink and paper could bridge the gap between us.

It's a common human tendency to focus on ourselves when faced with such profound loss. After all, life's challenges often seem to befall us, not serve us, right?

However, something extraordinary happened when I managed to silence my ego. In moments of quiet contemplation, I allowed my true self to connect with Peter on the other side. It was during these moments that I began to understand how grieving him was one of the most precious gifts he had ever given me. I found myself grateful that it was Peter who bestowed this gift upon me—the gift of profound pain through grieving, and a deep understanding of what love truly means.

The gift of pain thru Grieving and understanding what Love truly is.

For nearly five decades, I embarked on this human journey without ever truly knowing or experiencing one of life's most profound pains. In my incompleteness, I recognized a yearning to enter this existence and depart from it as a more whole, enlightened, and intimately connected being with the source of all existence. I made a conscious choice to embrace this human life, fully aware that it would encompass the entire spectrum of human emotions—the delightful and the agonizing. Perhaps it's true for all of us: no one willingly seeks out pain, yet what if, on the other side of that pain, lies a sanctuary of peace, love, illumination, and profound connection?

Today, I stand before you as an improved iteration of my former self—a more complete human being, now equipped with the ability to show up for others in a way I never could before. I offer more love, compassion, and understanding than ever, a gift not just to those around me but also to myself.

I don’t know if this letter will reach someone who is feeling that “break pain” in their heart, if it does I hope after your ego is done with the anger part you let your soul soar and show you the way to the other side, where they are and you can still love to each other from.

Forever grateful for you Peter. 🤍

Love,

S~