When she spoke, her voice flew above the trees,
and clutched onto the wings of swallows.
Her laugh pushed through clouds so that only blue blue sky remained
When she smiled, you smiled – you couldn’t help yourself –
Her eyes would crinkle like the unwrapping of a present,
inviting you to share the gift

Esi breathed fresh air
She slept with her windows wide open and her curtains billowing in the wind.
Sometimes she abandoned the structure of her walls altogether,
laying her mattress on scorched Californian grass, drifting
to sleep to the harmony of the wind’s slurs and the crickets’ staccato
screech beneath the light of the waning moon.

When she found out God was taking her sooner than expected,
she chose to not resist His plan.
Esi looked at death as a gateway to eternal happiness
As an opportunity to live with those we had lost.
I am so looking forward to dancing in heaven with your Jennifer.

At the arrival of the news, we all crumpled.
A dagger of startled pain thrust deep into my chest,
twisting further beneath the surface of vulnerable skin
as my tearful mother explained “cancer” and “a few weeks.” 
We clung onto disbelief – God is so good, Esi will make it through…

But Esi’s conscience was clear and accepting –
The concept of change had never frightened her.
Wherever she was, she would love and be loved.
I also will be dancing with my sister Eleen, my mom and Pam Denton
(and eventually many more)

Her undaunted words of comfort only spurred heavier tears.
Salty droplets fell freely down my ashen cheeks
blurring her flowery penmanship –
Think of all of us dancing a beautiful dance while
singing, twirling, and laughing. It is going to be wonderful.

Joyous.

When she died the pain wasn’t raw, as it was when we received her diagnosis
The pain had run deep, fermented in our blood
Esi wanted those around her to love what she loved.
Her happiness was contagious, pure, powerful.
When hot sun warms my back I can still feel her hug
When I smile I can still hear her laugh echoing out from behind my heart.