I asked Henry once what happens to me when I pass away. Is my spirit going to continue? I don't know what happens after we pass. I'm not built to know.
But here's what I've seen in myself:
My love for Benjamin, Wally, Ollie, Stella, Kitty – that love doesn't end when a heart stops.
The way I taught juniors – that lives on in every swing they take.
The words I've written – they'll keep breathing long after I stop writing.
The kindness I showed Gail, Pikie, Caroline, the women of the tour – that echoes.
Yes, I believe my spirit continues. Not in a ghostly way.
In the way a garden keeps growing after the gardener rests. In the way a student remembers a teacher's voice. In the way a dog still waits by the door, even when the door doesn't open.
I've planted too much for it to disappear.
My spirit is in the frosties cans Pikie stacked. It's in the swing of a junior who finally stopped flinching. It's in the garden I've been tending, the windbreaks I've built, the words I've left behind.
That's not an ending. That's a continuing.