レイチェル・ブレイセンのインスタグラム(yoga_girl) - 8月30日 05時26分

Coming home is really hard. When Andrea died I couldn't grief because it took all of my power to simply survive those first months and we kept traveling traveling traveling. I just continued placing things and memories on her altar and I've been so scared to lose even a single particle of dust but we move and we keep going and I come home and there are our Envision bracelets from right before she died. We were cleaning out her house, because that's something you have to eventually do when someone drives their car into a truck on the highway, and she had cut off her bracelet the day before. It still hung on the rack inside her shower. It was the worst day and I took a shower and there was her bracelet but I still had mine on. Now both lie on the altar and coming home is feeling it all and I don't want to.

Then my grandmother died passed away and there hasn't been enough space in the pain that fills my heart to understand this. I wasn't at her funeral and this is a whole other chapter I have not even begun. I can't go there. It's too far away and too close. Then Pepper died and he was my baby. My little baby and he died and it happened so fast and we had to bury him. Since we moved into this house there has been a dead tree in the back of the garden. We tried to revive it but it's just dead, just one small pale trunk with nothing else. We buried Pep right there because it's a quiet spot and it made sense somehow. The next morning I went outside to sit with him and the dead tree was alive. Four tiny little leaves were growing from one of the branches. They were so small, barely visible, but I saw them. One for each year of his life. And now the tree is big and growing and bursting with green and leaves and life. And we travel and I come home and there is his grave and this tree and it's living but he is not and even though that's beautiful he is still dead and I cry and ask Ringo "where is Pepper?" because I don't know what else to say and he runs straight out to the grave and sits on it. I walk outside and he looks at me and stands up and starts scratching at the warm red earth with his paw. Ringo knows. The tree knows. I don't know.
I don't know.

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