Last week I went to visit a man who I called my Spiritual Father and he called me his Spiritual Daughter. He had been in and out of the hospital for months.

Normally I would visit him at his place of business where what was supposed to be a 30-minute visit would turn into six hours of talking. And boy do elders love to talk! But these weren’t typical small talk or chats to catch up. These were thought-provoking conversations. They were about life. Death. Spiritual ideals, events. Everything. He told me stories. I told him stories. In three years, he knew more about me than my own father. This is where bonds grow. Text messages were exchanged every morning for a year with blessings for the day. Every morning, “Morning, my Spiritual Father”. He would respond, “Good morning, my Spiritual Daughter. Sending blessings your way.” There was never a morning we didn’t exchange or at least contact each other. Whether it was a TikTok video I made to make him laugh – he’d later tell me about it that following weekend I’d go visit, or it was something troubling me, he would make time for me. Nonetheless, when I would visit, I tried to keep my visits to a minimum. After all, I’m young. I have things to do. I’m a busy woman. Working girl over here.

But then one visit he said why he always refused to let me leave early. On my way out he turned to me, kissed my hand and said, “I love our visits. It helps me forget about my pain.” This plucked at my heart strings. From then on, for hours, I’d willingly sit with Larry Running Turtle and watch as people couldn’t pass him by without acknowledging him first. He would gift to me and others freely with nothing attached to his gifts. Whether they were verbal blessings or physical, he stopped to give them his full attention. He was such a willing giver to others. And other gave to him.

Then came the day he told me he was ready to leave this earth. “I’m ready.” This, I didn’t want to hear. When you have such a high spirit guiding you through life … it’s scary to know they will soon let go of your hand and have you walk on your own. When you fall, there is no one there to explain your fall or give you verbal strength to lift yourself back up. I selfishly told him to stay a little bit longer. He smiled, shook his head and said, “I have to. With all my teachings, don’t forget them.” As he continued to smile at passersby I held his words in my mind.

My funny memory of Larry. Because his store in the Corpus Christi Trade Center was near a toy lot area, by the time the kids would pass his shop, he would stop our conversation just to point at the kid who is crying over something they couldn’t have. “By the time they pass here, they are just crying and crying.” We shared a dark laugh over this. He would try to calm the child with little trinkets he had laying around. Sometimes the kids would accept it with sad puppy dog eyes. Anything to ease the child’s sadness. Just a glimpse of his love for the young.

Then came the day I took a tumble at work. Bruised up, on my way home I decided to visit my wonderful Spiritual Father. I mentioned my fall, he laughed weakly and said I’m worse than him, but he was glad I was OK. Before I left, he gave me his final blessings. I didn’t want it. I knew once he blessed me, this would be the end.

Life will teach you things. When a spirit is called, it doesn’t matter how much they are loved here on earth, they are requested in wider spaces. He took his last breath surrounded by friends and family. What a way to go – surrounded by pure love. His soul mate mentioned that Larry always said when he goes, those who lay hands on him are feeding their energy to his spirit. I grasped his leg. I didn’t want to let go. But would you hold captive a butterfly if all it wanted to do was fly? It’s cruel to want to keep such beauty in a cage. Wild spirits were meant to wander freely.

When you love someone, tell them so. When you so much as think about someone, don’t hesitate to message them, let them know. Their spirit, living or passed, came to your mind for a reason. Especially the living. Despite the issues, you’d be surprised how the thought heals their pain from not hearing from you.

If there is anything I take from Larry it’s this; give your time to those who are still here. For those who have passed, never forget them. Give them a reason to look into your life and see that you have not given up on living. If you find time to really look past phones or computer screens, despite the pain, life can reveal its secrets in beauty. Even storms can be beautiful. A’ho Ishka.