Louise Moore

When great souls die, the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile.We breathe, briefly.Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity.Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid,promised walks never taken.Great souls die and our reality, bound to them, takes leave of us.Our souls, dependent upon their nurture, now shrink, wizened.Our minds, formed and informed by their radiance, fall away.We are not so much maddenedas reduced to the unutterable ignorance of dark, cold caves.And when great souls die,after a period peace blooms,slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fillwith a kind ofsoothing electric vibration.Our senses, restored, neverto be the same, whisper to us.They existed. They existed.We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.

Pasley's Mortuary announces the passing of Louise Moore, 85, of James Island, South Carolina who answered the summons of our heavenly father to retire from the labors here on earth to her rewards in heaven on Wednesday, June 4, 2025.