Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

May 21, 2013

on death & hope.

there are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind 
- c.s. lewis
recently, some of the people dearest to my heart lost someone that was dearest to theirs. 
an anchor. 
a father. 
a friend.

just days within the anniversary of when i lost mine. making the memory even fresher.
oh, how my heart ached for them.
and how it still aches.

still, i've struggled to find the words to say.

i've come up wanting. so wanting.
so wordless.

instead, all i could do was pray.
______

these past few weeks, i've been thinking a lot about death.

not in a morbid sense--it's just the more life I live, the more fragile it seems. like if i stretched my fingers high enough, up on the tips of my toes, i could touch heaven.

it's true, i think. 
that this life of ours is fragile.
thin.

like tissue paper in the breeze.
______

on mother's day, our pastor took a detour from our scheduled passage and preached on proverbs 31:25b.

"she laughs at the time to come."

she laughs.
she laughs at the unknown.
she laughs at death.
she laughs.

it was such a good and timely reminder, after finding myself at times conflicted over the prior weeks. a reminder to count the joy in today, and look to the future brightly. confidently.

because if there is loss--no, when there is loss. when there is grief. there is hope.

hope of a life fully lived.
hope of the pain of this life finally at ease.
hope of a life ahead.

better than anything we have come to know here.

dear friends, this life is beautiful.
but thin.
fragile.

so breathe it in. 
because, it's just an echo of what's to come.
______

love.

*photo by nick schlax

May 6, 2012

FJM

today is the fifteenth anniversary of my grandfather's death.

rhododendrons from my grandparents' yard

he was more than just a loved grandfather. he was my confidant. my protector. my hero. my best friend.

i still miss him so.

My Grandfather was a man who died too soon, yet not soon enough.

I talked to you

As I walked through
The yellowed field
To the graveyard.


You spoke to me
On the stale breeze
Then watched me leave—
Back to my car.


Ten long years past
The times you thrashed
In painI can
Still hear your cries.

It wasn’t fair

you died. I, scared,
Avoided stares
From your dim eyes.


Your daffodils
Bloom in March still,
Despite the chill
Of early spring

At home, New Jersey,
Under a tree
They speak to me.

They wish you didn’t leave.