As I was working on my book today, I was recounting the funeral of my spiritual soul mate, Sylvia. I found that I had to take time out from the writing to sob, and sob, and sob. I felt like her death had happened yesterday. Or, perhaps, I found the freedom to feel all the grief I had needed to suppress in order to get through that funeral. I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that such deep mourning indicates to me that I still have emotional and spiritual work to do that is somehow connected to Sylvia's death. Her death left me devoid of a spiritual companion at that time. Her death, and my grief led to the demise of my congregation and the loss of my ministry. So much is tangled up with the death of a beloved. I am still trying to figure out just exactly who I am in ministry without her. I am so thankful for Katherine, the love of my life, and our beautiful daughter, Anna. Sylvia never got to know Katherine well, or to see Anna. My life has gone on, and is a constant source of wonder to me. Yet, there still linger the shadows of grief and the work of learning to live fully in the world without the ones I've lost.