On the 19th of December 1992, I remember the moment my mother left her body.
I was eight years old, and the lens through which I saw life was forever changed.
Despite the suffering, despite the profound loneliness, despite the surrender that followed, something else was left with me. A quality of love that freed me.
The greatest gift she left me was the capacity to love.
There was no need for words.
The love was felt, not explained, a living presence. And that felt sense never left.
It became a quality in me.
A way life moves through me.Like a lantern carried inside the chest, quietly illuminating everything it touches.
And it has been a journey learning how to share that very essence.
To feel love.
To be love.
To allow life to experience itself through love, this feels like the highest state of consciousness.
Life is brief.
Forms come and go.
But love remains.
As I sit here now, eyes closed, everything else falls away. What’s left is love.
A blessing.
Angela King
1947–1992 ❤️🌀🌈
