I normally write about airplanes and not about fluffy stuff. And when I do, I for sure do not share it. However, I am learning to share more of my emotions, realizing that it is not only therapeutic for me, but it can be helpful for others. I was inspired to write this during my recent flight home to Seattle (it is not technically a memorycast, b/c it is not a sound recording… but whatever):

As I look at the sunset from 35,000 feet, I know the science behind the beauty. How the sun’s light hits the water molecules of the clouds at the right angles causing the different shades of purple, blue, orange, and red. However, I know that science cannot fully explain the beauty of what I see and feel. There is more to it. Something that I cannot see. Something that I cannot define. But know to be true with every fiber of my soul.

This all feels so familiar to me, yet so distant. For the last year and five months I have struggled knowing what parts of Brittany left us and which still remain. Science might tell me that her ashes are all that is left, but with every fiber of my heart I know that is not true. She left so much beauty upon us and what we see and experience in the world cannot easily be defined by words. I often wonder why she has not visited me or made her presence known, but then I am presented with such beauty and can only feel her love. Her presence.

I am still working through my feelings and I am starting to care less about the line dividing science and an unknown reality. As I flew west, chasing the sunset across the sky, the beautiful colors faded. However the love and presence of the world and Brittany only grew. Was this her visiting me? In the past, I would say no, and today I am not sure. I feel that I need to keep my mind and heart open for what tomorrow might bring. I am starting to rely less on science to define what I feel and experience.

I used to worry that my changing view points were not based in reality, but only to better handle a loss in my life. Now I do not care. Feeling Brittany in the beauty of the world helps me feel her love, her presence and trying to explain things away with logic feels a part of my past now. I miss her dearly, but have such comfort knowing she is always with me, always looking out for me, and always adding to her long, long list of things that she is going to go over with me when we meet again (a loving list of things that would get me the “I can’t believe you did that David” glaring look).