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Long Suffering


The words I could not say…

We love you.

We will miss you.

Forever in our hearts there will be a place for you.

We miss your company and yet you have not gone.

We miss your smile and yet you have not stopped smiling.

We miss your guidance and yet you have never stopped guiding.

We miss your warmth and yet your light shines ever brighter.

Go in peace, but never too far away.

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Let Us Cry Together


crying childDo not take away my pain for it is mine to bear. Do not take away my tears for they are mine to shed. Do not take away my heartache for it is mine to understand. Do not parse my words for they are mine to express. Do not tell me how to grieve. Do not tell me how to cry. Love me the same as you would love those in pain.

It is difficult to watch those we love suffer in such a way we can only fathom to understand. No one wants to see their children, siblings or parents in pain. No one wants to watch those they love go through an anguish that can alone be lifted with time and healing.

While we all grieve in our own way we must allow each to express themselves in their way and in their time. Some fold into their shell and hide from prying eyes. Some cry uncontrollably. Some appear as though all emotions have been wiped from their face. Some become angry and lash out. Still others seek comfort and solace in all who would give it. Though we may all grieve in our own way, we need not grieve alone. We need not suffer alone. We need not heal alone.

Though we may each shed a tear, let us shed it together. Let us cry on each other’s shoulders and worry not about the time. Let us accept each other’s loving embrace and remember we are never alone. Let us remember that in happy times, and sad, we are always loved. We are never alone. Let us celebrate together.

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The Procession


funeral processionWhen we spend our time mourning we forget life. Life can be a procession of funerals and long faces if we allowed. We can grieve over the past and double over our regrets, but in doing so do we not just churn our pain and our tears into thick mortar to be plastered like thick masks. We each process perceived loss differently. Some can easily let go, though never quite forgetting, while others feel it is their duty and obligation to carry a guilt that was never meant to be.

Pain is often imprinted much deeper than a memory filled with happiness. But if we would rather count the scars than the smiles, perhaps we’ve missed what celebrating life really means. As much as we would like to believe, the scars do not have to be permanent. There does not need to be tears, at least not tears of sadness. There does not need to be regret. There does not need to be that feeling of hopelessness, or a vacancy we think we cannot fill.

Life as with death, or the acceptance of it, is by our choosing. We can choose to see life as a procession of funerals, or we can see it as a celebration and a transformation of understanding. Perhaps in the death of ego, one can live again.

   

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