a "been-there" mom of six offers encouragement
to wives, young mothers, and those not so young,
and simple common-sense approaches to
the "ings" of life:
child-rearing (hints and helps), homemaking (all areas),
cooking (simple, cheap, and do-it-yourself)
making (toys and gifts), preparing (for the unexpected),
maintaining (sanity and peace in this increasingly crazy world) and more---
all aspects of making the most of making do on little---
and having fun in the process.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Death from Three Perspectives


Sadly, on July 22nd,  we lost a niece to a brain aneurysm. As I was pondering on what I could say to hopefully comfort her family, a poem, from many years ago, came to mind.  While I was looking through Beginnings for that remembered poem, a second one caught my eye --- and my heart.

Dave and I usually make our own cards, using his photographs. Before we had a chance to look for one,  the perfect one "found" us !


The following poems depict the passing over to the other side from three different perspectives. In the first poem we have the view of  those that are left behind and the view from those who have gone before and are waiting to greet the new arrival.

Point of View                                           
by Carol Lynn Pearson  
                                            
Sun and mountains meet.                          
"Look," I say.                         
"Sunset !"                               
                                                
But I forget                              
That far away                          
An islander                              
Wipes morning                        
From his eyes                          .
And watches
The same sun
Rise.                                         


What's birth?
And death?
What's near
Or far?
It all depends
On where you are.



As an introduction to the second poem, I am including Henry Wordsworth's beautiful description of our mortal birth in Ode: Intimations of Immortality. He lived  from 1770 to 1850.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
     Hath had elsewhere its setting,
          And cometh from afar:
     Not in entire forgetfulness,
     And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
     From God, who is our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy! 


Death
by Carol Lynn Pearson

Death is the great forget, they said,
A mindless, restful leaving
Of all consciousness and care
In a vast unweaving.
And so I waited, cramped and still,
For approaching Death to bring
Forgetfulness --- but all he brought
Was a huge remembering.


I hope these bring comfort to Amy's family. I hope they will find a place in your heart, to be recalled and revisited if ever you have the need.

Copyright 1969, 1970, 1985 by Carol Lynn Pearson. Used with permission.

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