Monday, May 21, 2012
Tears are Meant to Wash the Pain Away
It's been quite a while since I last placed my thoughts here in cyberspace. No, I didn't die. I've just been living a life filled with activity and I lack the self discipline to sit myself down and gather my thoughts and share them with my fellow journeyers. It's quite awesome to know that anyone out there in the world can read this and some do. Some from other countries and states and even our own state, have commented on various entries and I love it when they do.. It reinforces my strong belief that we people of the earth are fellow travelers and much more alike than different. I mentioned dying earlier because death has been a steady visitor over the past year. First we lost Ann, the 93 year old mother-in-law of my brother. Ann was love-personified. She laughed and smiled through pain filled days and helped wherever she could. Janice was next. She was only 62 and had lived since age 18 with only one lung. She was the wife of one of Bing's best friends and we raised our kids together. Alice was next, my oldest brother's wife, she was 69. Her five children and a deep deep respect for life were her legacies. Then, on March 29th, Milli died. Milli was Bing's mom and she made it to age 99. She was a strong feisty woman and a lover of God right through to her peaceful death. Reminders of each of these people pop in and out of mind in the days after their demise and there is a blank space where there used to be vibrancy. I often think, why couldn't I have been wiser sooner? Why didn't I take the time to be more loving or to acknowledge the importance of all those who have gone before me? Why do I make so many good intentions and not follow through? But, luckily I remember the biblical saying that says there is a season for everything under heaven. I believe there will be a season for doing everything right! Won't that be nice!.............. The pictures are from a Spring visit from a mama bear and her two cubs. They spend their afternoons in the corn field near our mail box.
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