Good bye, my Dear Friend and Editor, Anna
Anna Kirwan
Good-bye, my dear friend and editor, Anna,
If you cock your head a certain way, you will see me there with you—in a pale pink, gored skirt, paired with a natural cap-sleeved, V-neck jersey joined below the waist with a brighter pink, very soft Indian scarf with small Om symbols.
Or, if a bird will be my emissary, listen to one singing a particularly “Prema” song of Real Love to you beyond your window.
You are going to the Light that is 50,000 times brighter than down here where we shall be both missing you, as we ARE human, and celebrating you for completing all you’ve come to be and do and now are going home trailing clouds of glory.
You have been a perfect gift to me, Anna, reflecting back what I could not see about myself and my writing. A Flower for God is your child as well as mine. Know you have infinitely changed the me that has been—and that you will ever more continue to benefit others through your gift of helping me understand myself through your eyes.
From this morning and every day until Baba has you closely in his arms, there will be a champa flower for you on his pile of garlands on the marble shrine called Samadhi. Like a soft, white, melting star from the tree in my front compound, you are softening and dissolving back to who you really are—spirit returning to rest before it is time for your next birth. And that will come.
Hobbs got to know you and that’s great!
Your family and friends got to re-focus on “Anna”—mom, grammie, wife, lover, friend, helper, patron of animals and birds. (So many adventures in your long life where you’ve been collecting these wonderful names.)
You will live on in all of us and in your books, and for me, in my heart and on a page in A Flower for God.
Rest deeply in your remaining days and hours. Smile until your cheeks scream stop. Be hugged, kissed, touched, smiled at, and let any tears be Baba’s bath water refreshing your face. There is always room for sadness, but not a lot. Baba told me he will hold my tears in his hands but he prefers to keeps his hands dry. So, he’ll hold yours and your family’s a bit but not for overly long.
I’m gently hugging your tired body and looking into the fading sparkle in your eyes. Darn it all, you’ve lost the gusto of your laughter BUT not the curl in your hair.
Travel smoothly, Anna. My essence will be with you on your journey until you reach a point of safety.
Caring and deep abiding love in the all-loving, omniscient Love of God, Meher Baba.
Your Prema