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Everything Changes

The more messed up this world gets, the more God makes sense.

Moments Of Life

A few weeks ago I got a car upgrade - same make and model that I've owned for the last 8 years but the car I'm driving now is 10 years newer - and the new car has made me want to drive, a lot. So last weekend I decided to head over to a small town near where I live. A friend that passed away last summer is buried there and I hadn't been for a visit since she was laid to rest.

It seemed like a perfect day to visit a cemetery - cool summer temps and partly overcast. I had a hard time locating my friend's monument and finally discovered that I was looking in the wrong section of the cemetery. This caused me to read many names on the other plots while I looking for the name I knew. Two weeks ago I visited another friend's cemetery plot in Niagara Falls. After I paid my respects I found myself walking through the cemetery reading other people's names and funeral dates. I did that again last weekend.

Two months ago I lost my dad and he was buried in the States with my mom who died over 4 years ago. I think walking through these cemeteries reading the details of loss other families have experienced was somewhat comforting in the journey with grief that I am on. To know that others have felt what I am feeling, and even to know that others have experienced loss in ways that I may never know. Somehow that validated my loss, and my pain, and my sadness.

And there were so many stories. So many moments of life, which struck me as odd. Here I am walking in a cemetery, a place associated with death, and yet all I could do was reflect on the life of those who were buried there. I learned things about people I've never met - moms and dads, brothers and sisters, grandmas and grandpas, and infants who left their families way too soon.

And that's just it - yes, I miss my parents, but I will always have the memory of their lives. And the photos that I can look at to keep their faces before me. And the treasured mementos that trigger stories of our own. Stories that remind me that I was loved, and that I was able to give love in return. And that I can continue to love others around me and celebrate life in the present.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 26, 2014 at 3:22 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.

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