Poems & Thoughts of Rob Taylor

Thought · August 8, 2026

A flash of Barb just now

A flash of Barb just now, in an instant meditating

I found Barb slumped on the desk, and could not wake her.Her final minutes at home were very awkward - Medical people handling her body, police looking if I had done this - Then she left the house, this last time.At the hospital, she was lying in an enclosed space, where I could be alone with her. I took off my shoes, and lay against her, gently, touching, hugging a little - She still, and breathing. The life in her body connected me with all we had done together, side-by-side, her body still alive. This unmoving body had been so capable, so multi skillful. Her breathing body was one symbol of so much - Me and Barb, all around and about, leaving many many traces, in so many different ways.Later that night, at home, she was gone, and the space she left was enormous, the light in the room, emphasizing the emptiness of that space. I sat in infinity - Her absence stretching every direction without boundary. I was tiny in the space. She was truly infinite….This just now, because I didn’t see enough then …

We don’t grasp the magnitude of some things as they happen. We miss details, depth, and extent. And that leaves a continuing momentum of the vitality we still carry, without full awareness. But some moments, when we aren’t engaged, a momentum will arise into thought, toward completing the meaning of unfinished energy in our mind. Like the meaning of that extraordinary moment of being with Barb, in that small hospital space, her body still breathing. My mind flashed that to me. I needed to see it again. That was the moment I died, and my next life began!

love · family · memory · impermanence