Monday, January 30, 2006
Decked in flowers,
Swaddled in gold filigreed shrouds,
Smeared with perfume,
She travels to the world beyond,
A life of love lived,
A life of more giving than taking,
Living a life of choices,
Turnings, and crossing she had missed.
She lies besides father,
In a grave prearranged for her,
Knowing she would accompany him,
In this last stage of creation,
When we all must self destruct.
When she was grieveously ill and bed ridden she actually told me, "Why don't you lie down somewhere, you look tired." Guess mothers are always like that, sacrificing, giving up, letting go, releasing, and still willing to give unconditional love in spite of all the cruel neglect they receive from their children.
If this is the end - for which we all have to prepare - then we better start living, loving, celebrating, creating, sharing, revelling in this journey called life.
Are you prepared to die? Only then can you prepare to live, as our priest said.