The farewell

The Farewell

By: John Kazerooni

Once, in the heart of a boundless and vibrant jungle, there lived a lion—graceful in strength, tender in spirit, and beloved by all. She was no ordinary ruler. She was both the king and queen of her world, embodying a balance of power and compassion that echoed through every tree, river, and breeze.

The animals adored her—not out of fear, but from deep admiration. Her presence brought calm to chaos, and her wisdom offered guidance that many sought like the warmth of morning sun. Day after day, creatures great and small gathered near her, not just for advice, but to simply feel the comfort of her nearness. She was their pillar, their peace, their constant.

And she, too, found joy in this closeness. She never wished to wander far, for the jungle was her family. Every rustle of leaves, every curious gaze, every call from afar reminded her she was needed, loved, and never truly alone.

Her children, once nestled beneath her watchful eyes, had grown strong and wandered into their own corners of the world. Though distance now stretched between them, her love never dimmed. Her heart beat in rhythm with theirs, silently, steadily—unseen but ever-present.

Time, as it does to all, moved gently yet firmly onward. Her once-mighty strides slowed. Her voice, once clear and commanding, now softened to whispers. Each step became a quiet effort, each meeting more rare. Yet her dignity remained untouched.

She did not wish for others to see her fading. Not out of shame, but out of a proud, unwavering love. She wanted to be remembered as she was—strong, radiant, whole.

So she chose solitude. Far from familiar paths and affectionate eyes, she sought a place untouched by pity or sorrow. A silent haven where memories could rest, and time could slip quietly by. There, with the jungle still in her heart, she prepared for her final journey—not in despair, but in peace.

She was not gone. No, she simply returned to the silence from which she came. To the soft mystery of beginnings and endings. Her story, though hushed now, remained etched in the jungle’s rhythm.

And perhaps, this is the story of all beings.

As seasons shift and our days slow, we too may long for quiet corners. Not out of loneliness, but from a desire to unburden those we love. To retreat with grace, and to rest with dignity.

With the quiet hope that in the next journey—just maybe—we’ll find ourselves once more. Whole. Light. And loved again, in some new form, beneath familiar stars.

And so we wonder…

Will those we leave behind feel our presence in the wind, in memory, in dreams?

Can letting go be the greatest act of love?

Is solitude at the end a choice of sorrow—or a whisper of sacred freedom?

And when our own journey comes… will we have the courage to walk it gently, as she did?

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