I've been thinking about things a lot lately because of news from far and near of the passing of friends. I was touched by three in particular, one was a very sad suicide and two passed on from old age.
I'm also keenly aware of the daily battles being fought by others near and dear with life-threatening illnesses, two man pals and three very special ladies in my life, who are near and one who is the dearest.
Whenever I'm moved by things like this I retreat into my books for words of comfort. Here's some I'll share with you.
From: A Year With Rumi - August 25th. Reading
On The Day I Die
On the day I die, when I am being carried to the grave, don't weep.
Don't say, "He's gone. He's gone."
Death has nothing to do with going away. The sun sets and the moon sets, but they are not gone.
Death is a coming together. The tomb looks like a prison, but it's really a release into union.
The human seed goes down into the ground, like a bucket into the well where Joseph is.
It grows and comes up full of unimagined beauty.
Your mouth closes here and immediately opens with a shout of joy there.
After I read that, I was encountered by an article on the very last page of the NYT Sunday Magazine of 08.28.2011 under LIVES.
It was entitled: Letting Go and was written by Dr. Siddarthra Mukherjee, assistant professor of medicine in the division of medical oncology at Columbia University. He is the author of "The Emporer Of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer."
I won't recount it here - suffice it to say that it gives a very different perspective to our western way of dealing with the passing of loved ones.
Finally, after sitting in the sun and watching the cloudless, nearly birdless and airplaneless sky over my patio, I had a solitary thought that I penned down...
We have Only one life that is soon past.
Only what's done with love will last.
Over and out and up, up and way!
That's all for today.