St. Francis-St Maxmilian Parish at 23965 Twenty-Three Mile Rd., Macomb, MI 48042 US - Ideas in Passing
  
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not here. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave
And weep.
I am not here. I do not sleep.
–Based on a Native American Prayer
+++ Death seems so cruel, so purposeless at times. But it’s not. Death is what alerts the rest of us to life — just when we have grown tired of it ourselves, perhaps, or worse yet, simply unaware of it at all.
+++ There is a period when the parts of us that died with the death of those we loved rises again in the recollection of past moments and the tears of past tenderness. This is when we know for certain that every deed we ever do lives on somewhere in someone who remembers it. This is when we are made to see death as a prod to life.
+++ Death gives us all the gift of time — our own and the time of those around us. It calls us to stop and look at sunflowers next time, to care for the grasses always, to embrace the planet forever, to pay attention to our friends, to take comfort in the dark, to remember that daffodils will unfold again. It is time to plant spring in our own hearts, to remember the light that no darkness can take away.
+++ There is only one breath between life and death. The important thing is to make every breath count — not only for myself but for someone else as well.
+++ People return to us after they die — not in body but in essence. Then we see most clearly who they were. The central question of life is, What will people see in me then, what essence of my life will remain with those left behind?
+++ The death of someone we know reminds us that we are still alive for a purpose. Our growing is not over yet; our giving is not finished.
–from the New Edition of A Month of Memories: Words of Comfort on the Death of a Loved One by Joan Chittister (Benetvision)
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