On January 1st, I’m usually thinking of how I ought to improve myself. Well, today I feel sad and concerned for a number of individuals in my neighborhood who have serious health problems right now. One dear sweet young lady died last night. another lingers on the brink. Another young lady continues a valiant battle with cancer. Another friend is recovering from a serious accident that will take months to recover from. There’s a heart problem, a shoulder problem, and bowel problems. And so I’m feeling sad today and turned to a journal entry on Memorial Day that expresses my sadness, but also opens the windows of sunshine. I’d like to share it with you. It is written about my Dad.
“I visited your grave today…green grass, the monument, your name, the dates–reminders of a time when you were here. I can visualize your face, and hear your voice. I remember many things: places, holidays, road trips, meals, good times and bad times. I feel the emptiness of your absence and the sadness in it’s wake.
The pain and loss, I think, would be too much to bear, if I thought at all that you yourself really lay beneath the ground. But, no, I do not feel, in fact, indeed, I know, you still live on, the very same, just beyond somewhere. I do not need to see or hear, or even know the place. I only know you live again and we will be together–another place, another time.
I am consoled. I feel hope and rejoice in the reality of a plan that allows me the chance to associate with those I love so much forever, only to be tested with a brief separation that we call death, but is, in reality, just a mysterious journey to an unknown land.
I will not disappoint you. I will not waste time pining about the past and let your absence disable me. I know you would want me to care for others like you cared for us, and to create an existence with an abundance of love and laughter, hope and good things. And so I will revel in the associations I have now. Each minute, each encounter and event is a sacred opportunity and chance to feel and share love, like you gave to me, with those I love her and now.
So Memorial Day means to remember all those whose graves we visit, and to honor them by building timeless, loving memories with my special family I am so fortunate to share my time and space with.
I wish I could have known Grandpa Val a little longer. From what I remember he was kind and quiet and thoughtful like his daughter, my Mom, is. He led a very admirable life and left quite a legacy and I can see that you strive to live life to the fullest as well. I am so proud to have people in my family that came before me that were so hard-working, loyal, intelligent, and who lived in such meaningful ways. It’s very inspiring.
I too, believe, that I will see Grandpa Val again. Losing my cat, Hugs, was very hard. I cannot even really imagine what it will feel like to someday lose a person that I love, in death. This helps me to feel a little less scared about how debilitating I imagine it to be.
What a thoughtful comment. It has made my day! And what a special person you are!