| I Am There by Iris Hesselden Look for me when the tide is high And the gulls are wheeling overhead When the autumn wind sweeps the cloudy sky And one by one the leaves are shed Look for me when the trees are bare And the stars are bright in the frosty sky When the morning mist hangs on the air And shorter darker days pass by. I am there, where the river flows And salmon leap to a silver moon Where the insects hum and the tall grass grows And sunlight warms the afternoon I am there in the busy street I take you hand in the city square In the market place where the people meet In your quiet room – I am there I am the love you cannot see And all I ask is – look for me. Do Not Stand At My Grave by Anon Do not stand at my grave and weep; I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and weep; I am not there. I do not sleep. From The Jewish Reform Prayer Book In the rising of the sun and in its going down We remember her In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter We remember her In the opening of buds and in the warmth of summer we remember her In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of the autumn We remember her In the beginning of the year and when it ends We remember her. Victor Hugo I am standing upon that foreshore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and the sky come down to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says “ there, She’s gone” “Gone where” “Gone from my sight, that’s all”. She is just as large in mast and spar and hull as ever she was when she left my side; just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of her destination. The diminished size is in me, not in her. “There, she’s gone” there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout. “Here she comes” That is dying. Henry Scott Holland Death is nothing at all… I have only slipped away into the next room, I am I and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Put no differences into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me. Let my name be ever the household name that it always was. Let it be spoken without effort, without the ghost of a shadow on it. Life means all that is ever meant. It is the same as it always was. There is absolutely unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you for an interval somewhere very near… just around the corner All is well. Rules For My Funeral by Susan Stutzky At my funeral there will be plenty of wastebaskets. For people will cry and noses will run. And hands full of gooey tissues are disgusting. At my funeral, laughter should reign, And chuckles comfort. There's humor in my flaws, So tell amusing tales with gusto. People may wear jeans to my funeral. I intend to. With my favorite flannel shirt and thick woolen socks. Forget the bra. Traditional in life, Let me be different in death. No hypocrites may come to my funeral. Make no room for the self-righteous and judgmental. I'd rather have strangers or no one at all. So come if you loved me. Hated me? Welcome. Make sure I'm gone. At my funeral, platitudes and panaceas are banned. I am dead. There is no silver lining. Except for those I leave money to. Surround me with purple and yellow flowers. Greens in exotic baskets. But just a few spectacular pieces. Then feed the hungry or cure a disease. In my name, of course. Play joyous music at my funeral. Songs with rising crescendos or haunting melodies. Refrains that stick in your head repeating endlessly. "Ding Dong, the witch is dead..." No, not that one. Please don't say, "She looks so natural." No one says it to me now. Be honest. Apologize for times you done me wrong. I forgive you. Forgive me. Now go and live better than before. At my funeral, there will be no preaching. Pomposity is forbidden; no performances please. Save it for the Sunday service. In life, God was my friend, my sustainer. He was there when all you weren't. Or couldn't be. We were so intimate, we spoke in the shower. I had great insights nude and soapy. So speak of my faith. And that I'm dancing with Him now. And leave it at that. Kahlil Gibran Life and death are one, even as the sea and river are one In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond, And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and melt into the sun And what is it to cease breathing but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek (God) unencumbered Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing, And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb, And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance. Live A Life That Matters Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end. There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days. All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else. Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance. It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed. Your grudges, resentments, frustrations, and jealousies will finally disappear. So, too, your hopes, ambitions, plans, and to-do lists will expire. The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away. It won't matter where you came from, or on what side of the tracks you lived, at the end. It won't matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant. Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant. So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured? What will matter is not what you bought, but what you built; not what you got, but what you gave. What will matter is not your success, but your significance. What will matter is not what you learned, but what you taught. What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched, empowered or encouraged others to emulate your example. What will matter is not your competence, but your character. What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will feel a lasting loss when you're gone. What will matter is not your memories, but the memories that live in those who loved you. What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom and for what. Living a life that matters doesn't happen by accident. It's not a matter of circumstance but of choice. Choose to live a life that matters. Author Unknown |
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