Sage Raval
listen
Beth died in 2007 from Lymphoma, a complication of HIV
Dear Bethy,
You have been gone for over 13 years, but it feels like you are still here. I walk by your photo in my living room and I feel your presence. You were always too big for that petite little body. Your energy was bold. When you were mad, it was almost funny. It was like you had to shake and yell and move to express your emotion. When you were happy, you would dance and sing and laugh with every ounce of your being. When you became ill, your body was having none of it. For 12 years, you lived and thrived using natural medicine, yoga, meditation and ayurveda. You were able to meet my husband and my daughter. I wish that you'd been able to meet my son. I believed that you would live with HIV as you always had, boldly.
When your body began it's decline, it was like your soul began to shine even brighter. I was happy that I was able to be besides you a few times during this transition. The first time, I rushed to your bedside, we thought you might be leaving us. You were in and out of consciousness. We took our turns by your side, reading over and over the Tibetan Bardo prayers you requested. Thank you, that prayer helped us too. When you awoke briefly, and saw all of your children, by birth and marriage standing over you, I saw the love in your eyes. I'm so grateful for the time I had to speak with you on my own. Having just become a mother, I imagined what I would want to hear from my child and I told you that, we would be okay. That we would watch out for each other and that we knew and felt how much you loved us. I left that visit knowing that you and I would always be connected by a pure love.
The next time I saw you, you had already departed that fragile body. I did not make it in time to be with you when you left. Honestly, I did not want that to be my last moment with you, in your body. And so the next time I saw you, you were lying so still, so quiet, so dim, so heavy with this world and vacant of life. I looked at your old home, your fragile body and I knew that your soul was too big for that form. I glanced up and within the stained glass window was a shining purple light. And I thought to myself, Oh, there you are and that is where I looked until it was time to deliver your old home to the fire. We all wheeled the box to the fire, all of us children helped load you inside the machine. My brother, your son, pushed the button and we watched as your Earthly body turned to Ash and your beautiful soul was free. We celebrated you, your life with the Incredible community that you built. You were so loved and adored by so many. You were loved and adored by me.
You gave me countless lessons in life and in dying you gifted me even more. Your transition from form to Spirit was one of the most beautiful processes I have ever witnessed. It was calm, there was time, we spoke. We shared our stories, we shared our assurances. You allowed your spirit to shine so brightly until it could not be contained and then you were free. Free to be everywhere at once. And you were. And you are. I feel it and I thank you. Thank you for living so boldly, thank you for dying so beautifully, thank you.
Love, Sagey
I brought some jokes you wrote me, so I’m gonna read these.
To Sage,
Happy Valentine's Day, I love you,
from Beth
Sage’s Joke Book.
You gave this to me when I was 7 years old.
“Why does a hummingbird hum?”
“He doesn't know the words”
“What’s short and green and leads armies?”
“Attila the avocado”
“What is all green and wrinkled?”
“A martian prune”
“What bee never flies?”
“A baby”
“What's black and white and red all over?”
“A zebra in a hot springs”
“Did you hear about the new TV series starring a sled dog and a potato?”
“Oh yeah, what's that called? Husky and starch”
“You know yesterday I went outside and fed an elephant in my pajamas?”
“That's fine, but how’d you get an elephant in your pajamas?
“Knock knock”
“Who's there?”
“Noah”
“Noah, who?”
“Know a good joke?”
“Why did the chicken cross the road?”
“To get the Albuquerque Journal, get it?”
“No, I get the Taos news”
In Sage’s own words, she is “I live in Los Angeles with my two children and my husband. I spend my days teaching, cooking, hiking and creating space for sharing and healing. I dream about New Mexico sunsets, the same ones my step mother marked the end to her days.”