Arrivals: A Homecoming Beyond This Life
- Ricardo Casimiro
- Nov 1, 2024
- 2 min read
November, the month of remembrance, holds a special place for those we’ve loved and lost. If I could send a letter to each of you, would words be enough to hold the weight of my longing, to carry the warmth of my love, or to ease the ache of missing you? Sometimes I wonder if, in the quiet of my heart, I could hear your voices, feel you all nearby, reminding me that love doesn’t end, even across the distance.
We often think of death not as a final goodbye, but as an arrival—a homecoming where goodbyes become a waiting, where love is still alive. Even with this hope, missing you all is real. My heart is full of a quiet wish to keep each of your memories alive, vivid in the way we speak about you, in the love that we continue to share in your name.
These feelings—this saudade—are how I hold each of you close, a way of filling the empty spaces that words can’t reach. It’s in those pauses and quiet moments that I feel you most, that your memory becomes a steady presence, filling the silence.
When I travel, I see the arrivals at airports—the joy of seeing loved ones waiting, holding signs with names, the calls of “Welcome home.” Watching these moments comforts me as I think of each of you who have already passed. I hold onto the idea that, someday, I’ll have an arrival like that.
Those who went ahead will be there, ready to welcome me, to say, “Welcome home.” Like travelers embraced after a long journey, you’ll be there, bringing me into a peace where all the waiting, all the missing, finally fades away.
Until that day, I keep you close in my heart, knowing that what we shared is safe, a quiet but steady presence that lights up my soul.
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