On Monday. October 2023, I held my eighty-five-year-old father´s hand and looked him directly into his eyes, as he passed the Rainbow Bridge at exactly 01.10 p.m. CET.
My world stopped a split second, I cried my eyes out, and the day after, we sang him out from the hospice I stayed with him from October 20 to October 23.
We buried him the following Thursday, I managed to perform my speech to him without feeling that the world had come to an end.
Sorrow has truly many faces, and as yet, it comes and goes as it pleases.
Yet another star in Heaven, yet the resurrection of my life as a witch, as a writer, and as a human being.
For almost six months, I traveled my country, visiting my father as much as possible.
From day one, my dear new family of true friends backed me up and came when the calls came for immediate help.
I miss him so much, the fact that there is no phone connection and no visiting hours across the Rainbow Bridge, well, it rocks my world in its deepest places within my heart, mind, and soul.
But there is a photograph of him as a young boy, smiling, in his best suit, giving me a feeling of true love and happiness. I wear his ring with black onyx, as protection, comfort, and the most natural thing in this world.
It helps me conquer the fear of losing a loved one, it comforts me knowing that I did my best and even so much more, and it bestows me the ability to feel joy alongside grief and excruciating emotional pain.
Because life will go on, as well as the Sun will rise as long as there is a morning to rise to.
In a week from now, I will go back to work, to my creative course, and my daily practical routines here, at home with my sweet husband, our beautiful three philosophical cats, and the little wise, old dog.
But, today, I will go to Church to mourn and remember my beloved father, with a friend, who will do the same for a sister and a father.
Well, a witch in a Christian church, yes, to me it represents a place of worship, a sacred spot for magick when people join to let their loved ones go, and an opportunity to work actively with the phases of sorrow that all humans share throughout life.
My father would have wished for me that I was strong when the need arose, that I carry proud on with the life that I have created here, and that I would smile again soon, preferably to the beautiful sound of music.
I got his Spanish guitar, in Spring I will find someone who can teach me enough of the basics to be able to play at least parts of a beautiful song in the Summer of 2024.
Yet another Star in Heaven.
Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again.
So mote it be.
To my late father, Kai Moellgaard.
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