Love, Loss and Mourning.

[cwohio]

thanks!

[In memory of miracle]

What Will Matter


by Michael Josephson
used with permission of the author








Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.


There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days.
All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten
will pass to someone else.

Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.
It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed.
Your grudges, resentments, frustrations
and jealousies will finally disappear.
So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to-do lists will expire.
The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.

It won't matter where you came from
or what side of the tracks you lived on at the end.
It won't matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.
Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.


So what will matter?
How will the value of your days be measured?


What will matter is not what you bought
but what you built, not what you got but what you gave.

What will matter is not your success
but your significance.

What will matter is not what you learned
but what you taught.

What will matter is every act of integrity,
compassion, courage, or sacrifice
that enriched, empowered or encouraged others
to emulate your example.

What will matter is not your competence
but your character.

What will matter is not how many people you knew,
but how many will feel a lasting loss when your gone.

What will matter is not your memories
but the memories that live in those who loved you.

What will matter is how long you will be remembered,
by whom and for what.


Living a life that matters doesn't happen by accident.
It's not a matter of circumstance but of choice.

Choose to live a life that matters.





© 2003 Josephson Institute of Ethics

[cwohio]

thanks trish - so true!

[In memory of miracle]

Prayer for Those Who Mourn

Bless those who mourn, eternal God,
with the comfort of your love
that they may face each new day with hope
and the certainty that nothing can destroy
the good that has been given. May their memories become joyful,
their days enriched with friendship,
and their lives encircled by your love.
Amen.

--© 1991 Vienna Cobb Anderson, Adapted from "Prayers of Our Hearts"

[In memory of miracle]

I measure every grief...


I measure every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long,
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have piled--
Some thousands--on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
Could give them any pause;

Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love.

The grieved are many, I am told;
The reason deeper lies,--
Death is but one and comes but once
And only nails the eyes.

There's grief of want, and grief of cold,--
A sort they call 'despair,'
There's banishment from native eyes,
In sight of native air.

And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly yet to me
A piercing comfort it affords
In passing Calvary,

To note the fashions of the cross
Of those that stand alone
Still fascinated to presume
That some are like my own.


- Emily Dickinson

[In memory of miracle]

Hope is the thing...


Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.


- Emily Dickinson

[In memory of miracle]

BEING USED

In their eyes,
you are using again.

A puppet of some sinister substance,
siphoned of substantiality.

You strut without feeling your feet,
as a pallbearer to your self, inside.

Your words stated with sureness
are not attached to ideas.

Hollywood taught you to want always more.
Now you are used by your using.

You run, but the user is in you,
and you cannot escape.



Judith Pordon
C 1990

[In memory of miracle]

Fly
Celine Dion

Fly, fly little wing
Fly beyond imagining
The softest cloud, the whitest dove
Upon the wind of heaven's love
Past the planets and the stars
Leave this lonely world of ours
Escape the sorrow and the pain
And fly again

Fly, fly precious one
Your endless journey has begun
Take your gentle happiness
Far too beautiful for this
Cross over to the other shore
There is peace forever more
But hold this memory bittersweet
Until we meet

Fly, fly do not fear
Don't waste a breath, don't shed a tear
Your heart is pure, your soul is free
Be on your way, don't wait for me
Above the universe you'll climb
On beyond the hands of time
The moon will rise, the sun will set
But I won't forget

Fly, fly little wing
Fly where only angels sing
Fly away, the time is right
Do now, find the light

[In memory of miracle]

When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
We've been through this such a long long time
Just tryin' to kill the pain
But lovers always come and lovers always go
An no one's really sure who's lettin' go today
Walking away
If we could take the time to lay it on the line
I could rest my head
Just knowin' that you were mine
All mine
So if you want to love me
then darlin' don't refrain
Or I'll just end up walkin'
In the cold November rain

Do you need some time...on your own
Do you need some time...all alone
Everybody needs some time...on their own
Don't you know you need some time...all alone

November Rain. ( Guns@ Roses)

Beautiful.

[In memory of miracle]

I am taking a course in school, Death and Dying. It's a required course that I haveto take. From a clinical perspective it is very interesting, emotionally its been tough. Last week we discussed hospice care and wrongful death suits. I get all stirred up and am even having a hard time doing the reading. I seem to get really agitated during both.
My Dad had hospice care and a wrongful death suit was instituted, because he died from asbestosis ( breathing it in caused lung cancer). I find myself wondering, is my grief unresolved? To be honest, I haveto say it probably is. I fear it, for some reason. It was such an awful time when he was dying. I find myself going back to, Why wasn't I grown up about it? What would have been different if I had not been so active in my disease?
All questions that will never be answered,I know,nonetheless still there. Deep inside, I feel I don't have the right to the good memories and I should punish myself forever.I so regret the things that happened...so there you have it. I need to find a way to face whatever it is that is scaring me and let go.I am tired of it,its a weight. You know?
If you have read this far, I thank you,I just want to let it out.
Bless, Trish

[Wolfstarr]

Trish...

Yes, I know the weight. My father died when I was 6 years old. I have recently come to terms with his death, almost 44 years ago...
I wasn't grown up about it and I don't think I would have ever been...even now.
The child in me exists today, as it does in you.
I was physically 6 years old when my father died. I was a child.

He was your father...you, his child. Active in disease or not.

Little Trish. Give her some comfort...it's ok. Relish in the good memories...don't deny them!
It's ok...you will be ok...love love those memories...box up the regrets, tie them to a helium balloon and send them soaring...far away from your thoughts!

Peace to you.

"Bless"....
Vivian

[In memory of miracle]

Thanks ((( Wolfstarr ))) Means alot.

[In memory of miracle]

You’re Grief
Jalaluddin Rumi
Your grief for what you’ve lost holds a mirror
Up to where you’re bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look instead,
Heres the joyful face you’ve been wanting to
See.

Your hand opens and closes and opens ands
Closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
You would be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence is in every small
contracting and expand the two as beautifully balanced and
coordinated
As bird wings
Jalaluddin Rumi (1207-1273)

[In memory of miracle]

Love


Love means to learn to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are only one thing among many.
And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
Without knowing it, from various ills
A bird and a tree say to him: Friend.
Then he wants to use himself and things
So that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
It doesnt matter whether he knows what he serves:
Who serves best doesnt always understand.

Czeslaw Milosz

[In memory of miracle]

Hear the words of the dancing God,
the music of whose laughter stirs the winds,
whose voice calls the seasons:
I who am the Lord of the Hunt and the Power of the Light,
sun among the clouds and the secret of the flame
I call upon your bodies to arise and come unto me.
For I am the flesh of the earth and all its beings.
Through me all things must die and with me are reborn.
Let my worship be in the body that sings,
for behold all acts of willing sacrifice are my rituals.
Let there be desire and fear, anger and weakness,
joy and peace, awe and longing within you.
For these too are part of the mysteries found within yourself,
within me, all beginnings have endings,
and all endings have beginnings.

charge of the god - author unknown

[In memory of miracle]

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day
cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death,
open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one,
even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires
lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like the seeds dreaming beneath the snow
your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams,
for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd
when he stands before the king whose hand
is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling,
that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind
and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing,
but to free the breath from its restless tides,
that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence
shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top,
then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs,
then shall you truly dance.

on death - kahlil gibran

Blessed are those that mourn,they shall be comforted...Bible.

[In memory of miracle]

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
wake me up when september ends

like my fathers come to pass
seven years has gone so fast
wake me up when september ends

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are

as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when september ends

summer has come and passed
the innocent can never last
wake me up when september ends

ring out the bells again
like we did when spring began



wake me up when september ends

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are

as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when september ends

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
wake me up when september ends

like my fathers come to pass
seven years has gone so fast
wake me up when september ends
wake me up when september ends
wake me up when september ends


Greenday.

[In memory of miracle]

Who can say for certain, maybe you're still here ...

I feel you all around me, your memory so clear.

Deep in the stillness I can hear you speak.

You're still an inspiration ~

can it be that you are mine forever, love.

And you are watching over me from up above.

Fly me up to where you are beyond the distant star

I wish upon tonight to see you smile,

if only for a while, to know you're there ~

a breath away's not far to where you are.
Are you gently sleeping here inside my dream

and isn't faith believing all power can't be seen.

As my heart holds you, just one beat away,

I cherish all you gave me every day.

Because you are mine, forever love,

watching me from up above.

And I believe that angel's grieve

as our love will live on and never leave.


Fly me up to where you are beyond the distant star

I wish upon tonight to see you smile,

if only for a while, to know you're there ~

a breath away's not far to where you are...

Josh Grobin

[In memory of miracle]

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain.

If I can ease one life the aching,

or cool one pain

or help one fainting robin

unto his nest again,I shall not live in vain.

*Emily Dickinson

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Bible.

[In memory of miracle]

Beloved Lord, Almighty God,
Through the Rays of the Sun,
Through the Waves of the Air,
Through the All Pervading Life in Space;
Purify and Revivify Us
And we pray, heal our bodies, hearts, and souls.
Amen

nayaz - the healing prayer - pir-o-murshid inayat khan

[In memory of miracle]

Through your blessing, grace, and guidance,
through the power of the light that streams from you:
May all my negative karma, destructive emotions,
obscurations and blockages be purified and removed,
May I know myself forgiven
for all the harm I may have thought and done,
May I accomplish this profound practice of phowa,
and die a good and peaceful death,
And through the triumph of my death,
may I be able to benefit all other beings, living or dead.

tibetan buddhist phowa practice - care for the dying

[In memory of miracle]

Reluctance

Out through the fields and the woods
And over the walls I have wended;
I have climbed the hills of view
And looked at the world and descended;
I have come by the highway home,
And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,
Save those that the oak is keeping
To ravel them one by one
And let them go scraping and creeping
Out over the crusted snow,
When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last lone aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the feet question 'Whither?'

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?


Robert Frost

[Wolfstarr]

Thank you for all you post here...

Bless you,
Starr

[In memory of miracle]

There will come a time when you believe everything is
finished. That will be the beginning.

Louis L'Amour