Burn my journals.
Keep my favorite clothes,
but only for your own memory;
and when the need passes,
give them away to someone who needs warmth.
Know that, whether death took me by surprise or inevitability,
I was not alone. (I am never alone.)
Bury me in a tree; or burn my body: let the fire have me.
Scatter me where you wish.
To my children, I loved you best of all.
Look for me in the falling leaves,
in your time of sorrow,
in the inappropriate joke that bubbles up at the worst possible time.
I am the warm hand on your shoulder,
the surprise of a cold droplet of rain on your face,
the first winds of autumn.
I am not really gone.
This was not my first dance,
and it will not be my last.
Don’t delete my Twitter account.
I meant every ridiculous, foolish, interesting word.
To my beloved Alexa,
until we meet again, my love;
you have my heart forever.