There is a line in the Anna Natlick song 2am Breathe that states " 'Cause you can't jump the track,we're like cars on a cable, And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table No one can find the rewind button girl, So cradle your head in your hands And breathe, just breathe, Woah breathe, just breathe" What a powerful and true statement that is in the midst of a normal everyday song, and how it applies to our lives. We as Christians go through life doing our daily routine and don't ever see that hourglass stitting there on the table with the sands of time running through it each and every moment of our our lifes. We do not see the sands of time because only God truly know how much time we have and when it is our turn to die. Yet, if you could see the sand running in the hourglass would life be different or the same?
I came to learn about the sands of time and the hourglass that is glued to the table when I was a young child. It was then that I found out that my mother was ill and that she was going to die and it was going to be soon. The sands of time were passing quickly and there was not way of going back or bargining for more time for her to be here in this world with us. Her time of leaving was approaching, the sand was about gone and there is nothing that can be done other then let her go. It was then that we (my family and I) learned to breathe once again. It was when she took that last breath surrounded by those that loved her that they learned how to breathe once again. It was a peaceful passing, yet the clock, world and everything in the world stopped for the ones that were gathered around my mom when she took her last breath. I was not there, I was young and my mother did not want that to be the last memory of her that I held dear. So I was home with my brother while my dad and other members of the family were gathered to her in when she breathed her last.
I can recall the night that they took her out of the house for the last time. The night my father carried her out of the house in her pretty long nightgown, and placed her in the car for her last trip to the hospital. It was then that I knew for sure that she was dying. I knew that night, when my dad came to us to tell us that he was taking her to the hospital, that she would never return home. It was then that I learned how to breathe. It was that very night I begged him to keep her home, I was not ready for her to leave, but her pain was too great and she needed more care, so he carried her out to the car and drove away. It was then that I screamed and knew that my life was going to change forever. I sat there on the floor and told my brother that she would never return. He tried to console me and say that she would be back, she would come home. I knew that she was going to die and it would be soon. So that night I grieved for I was losing my mother now, prior to her actual death. My dad would take us to see her and I could tell she was not well, they say I started to withdraw from her, cause I knew in my heart and soul what was coming in the near future. I would love on her then sit further and further away on the bed. They did not understand, but I was letting go so I could breathe once again and not feel that deep hurt and pain that was in my soul the night he carried her out of the house. It was time to breathe and just breathe, to be in the moment and not caught in the sands of time that were running ever so quickly. No matter what we did, said or wanted to do it would change the fact that she was there in the hospital dying, and it was going to be soon, there is no rewind button now, and we can't go back and have more time with her. It is time to breathe......
It wasn't long after her passing that we learned how to breath once again and learned that the hourglass was there on the table empty for her and there was no way of going back or filling in more sands of time. No matter how much I wanted to see her, smell her, or feel the warmth of her hugs and kisses she was gone, the sand had ran out. It is now that I learned to breathe once again. It was during that year of school that my life changed, friends that I had since I was small seemed to disappear. Now all of a sudden they were gone.....they hardly talked to me, and I found a new circle of friends who would always be there. It is weird to think in the worst time of my life everyone disappeared. They had to know what was going on, I am sure their parents talked, since there was a funeral and it lasted for a week. Those were the longest 7 days in a funeral home ever. I wasn't sure I fully understood death or all that it entailed then, but I knew my mother was gone and I had to learn to breathe once agian and find a way to surrive with the pain that was so ever present in my heart and soul.
My life changed a lot in that year, my thoughts, my friends, my home and everything changed. It was in learning to breath that I withdrew and became more of a loner, after all I did have to find a new circle of friends after her passing. I had to learn to live in a home with a father and my brother. I had to learn how to function once again in a world that so unpredictable, where one leans on herself and not on others, because you cant't see the sands of time that are glued to the table and you do not know when someone is going to be taken from you. In all of this I learned to love wholy, be true to those friends that are around me, and be me and not who any one else wanted me to be. My father became my true hero, his words of comfort, strength and love was all I need now to get through the day to day. He taught me in the middle of all the pain that you live moment to moment, and day to day. This is what got us through that deep seeded pain when it was so raw you could cut it like a knift.
Yes, those deep cuts heal over and form a scab, it still hurts at times, yet it is in those moments that I look back and realize that once again I am learning to breath and deal with the sads of time that are glue to the table and I have no control over how fast or slow they flow. Rather, I love those around me and be true to myself. To live my life knowing the sands of time are flowing and to hang onto the friends and family I have in my life, becasue we never know when the sand will run out. For when that happens there is no going back no more words to be said, no more love to give but a hole that we fill with time and the Love of others and God.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Tears are Falling.....
Death is a splendid and an horrible thing. It is often a welcome to those who are in the process of passing onto the other side. It can be a time of reflection, retrospect and true reflection of ones life and all that they have enjoyed or experienced along the path. Yet, at the same time it is a painful, and sad time for the one that is dying as well. To inflict the pain of your loss onto them since those who love you will miss you and mourn your passing. It is a time when the dying prioritize who and what what they want to day in their last good days prior to becoming bed ridden and start the dying process.
I can remember the first few funerals that I had attended as a small child, it really didn't seem like much at the time, yet being so young and not really knowing those who had passed it was just something we had to attend with my parents. Death was there then but it was more in the shadows, not really seen and we were not really affected by it until the passing of my mother.
With the passing of my mother, death became to sink in more and more each day. I was young when she passed yet my understanding of the passing took some real time to really sink in and effect me. It was a time when our lives essentially turned upside down and there was no real warning. Yes, she was sick with Cancer and they knew she was going to pass, but it wasn't real until the night they took her to the hospital for the last tine for pain management. It was then I realized that my mother was not going to come home. She was going to die there at the hospital. My father would take us to visit her, then as she got closer and closer to death I stayed home. He and my mother didn't want us to remember her in that much pain and agony. Rather to remember her as who she was to us as an amazing mother that would do anything for her children.
Death became a time of mourning for us. It was filled with tears at home and at the funeral that was a week long back then. It was a time when pain would be reflected upon the faces of family, close friends and distant relatives who had come to our side in the passing of my mother. It was a time when sitting at home with all the food and flowers that you looked around and it just wasn't real. It was a time when there was so much of everything in the house, company, relatives, phone calls, missed school. That it all ran together for a while. But, then it sinks in that she is not coming home, that she is there in the cool cemetery, and you will never feel her breath on your face, the warm touch of her hand, or her wonderful hugs and kisses that we were showered with daily. That upon coming home from school she wouldn't be there in the in the kitchen, or in the living room with the homemade blanket upon her lap wait to hear of all our adventures from school. The home had her presence but she was so absent. Her soul seem to be there in the house, and that we could feel her there but she was gone. I remember laying on her pillow wishing to hear her voice again and again, Wondering if she knew we were ok with dad.
That she lived in all that we did daily even though she was gone. There were tears that would flow months and years after her passing, because she is not forgotten, but a small piece of us had died that day we put her in the cemetery. A hole was dug within each of us, and within that hole is a spout of pain that tends to surface every now and then, but the pain is manageable now as an adult. It is there as a reminder and keeps her alive in all that we do in our lives as we moved on from her passing. It is amazing how we are able to function as children and adults having gone through this trauma, but we are stronger individuals and have learned a lot from the experience.
We learn how to live daily and not always worry about what the future holds. We love truer because we know what it is like to lose a part of yourself when someone dear to you dies. We hold on to the love and true friendships that we have, because those are the ones we rely on in our deepest times of need. We are true friends no matter what, if we haven't spoke in months, nothing will change. Other then long talks to get caught up on daily life and all that has been happening around us. We form stronger ties to the family that we have, become closer to those we love and are always there for us. We hold onto to them and love them with all that we are because they have suffered in the loss that we held so dear to us. We form a circle of friends and parents friends who become more family like then just friends. We learn who we can trust and rely on and we learn to function again.
I can remember the first few funerals that I had attended as a small child, it really didn't seem like much at the time, yet being so young and not really knowing those who had passed it was just something we had to attend with my parents. Death was there then but it was more in the shadows, not really seen and we were not really affected by it until the passing of my mother.
With the passing of my mother, death became to sink in more and more each day. I was young when she passed yet my understanding of the passing took some real time to really sink in and effect me. It was a time when our lives essentially turned upside down and there was no real warning. Yes, she was sick with Cancer and they knew she was going to pass, but it wasn't real until the night they took her to the hospital for the last tine for pain management. It was then I realized that my mother was not going to come home. She was going to die there at the hospital. My father would take us to visit her, then as she got closer and closer to death I stayed home. He and my mother didn't want us to remember her in that much pain and agony. Rather to remember her as who she was to us as an amazing mother that would do anything for her children.
Death became a time of mourning for us. It was filled with tears at home and at the funeral that was a week long back then. It was a time when pain would be reflected upon the faces of family, close friends and distant relatives who had come to our side in the passing of my mother. It was a time when sitting at home with all the food and flowers that you looked around and it just wasn't real. It was a time when there was so much of everything in the house, company, relatives, phone calls, missed school. That it all ran together for a while. But, then it sinks in that she is not coming home, that she is there in the cool cemetery, and you will never feel her breath on your face, the warm touch of her hand, or her wonderful hugs and kisses that we were showered with daily. That upon coming home from school she wouldn't be there in the in the kitchen, or in the living room with the homemade blanket upon her lap wait to hear of all our adventures from school. The home had her presence but she was so absent. Her soul seem to be there in the house, and that we could feel her there but she was gone. I remember laying on her pillow wishing to hear her voice again and again, Wondering if she knew we were ok with dad.
That she lived in all that we did daily even though she was gone. There were tears that would flow months and years after her passing, because she is not forgotten, but a small piece of us had died that day we put her in the cemetery. A hole was dug within each of us, and within that hole is a spout of pain that tends to surface every now and then, but the pain is manageable now as an adult. It is there as a reminder and keeps her alive in all that we do in our lives as we moved on from her passing. It is amazing how we are able to function as children and adults having gone through this trauma, but we are stronger individuals and have learned a lot from the experience.
We learn how to live daily and not always worry about what the future holds. We love truer because we know what it is like to lose a part of yourself when someone dear to you dies. We hold on to the love and true friendships that we have, because those are the ones we rely on in our deepest times of need. We are true friends no matter what, if we haven't spoke in months, nothing will change. Other then long talks to get caught up on daily life and all that has been happening around us. We form stronger ties to the family that we have, become closer to those we love and are always there for us. We hold onto to them and love them with all that we are because they have suffered in the loss that we held so dear to us. We form a circle of friends and parents friends who become more family like then just friends. We learn who we can trust and rely on and we learn to function again.
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