There are many stories and antidotes we come across throughout the years, some of them can make a difference in one persons life. Here are some of them:
On Evil Queens: “There is darkness inside all of us, though mine is more dangerous than most. Still, we all have it—that part of our soul that is irreparably damaged by the very trials and tribulations of life. We are what we are because of it, or perhaps in spite of it. Some use it as a shield to hide behind, others as an excuse to do unconscionable things. But, truly, the darkness is simply a piece of the whole, neither good nor evil unless you make it so. It took a witch, a war, and a voodoo queen to teach me that.”
― Jenna Maclaine, Bound By Sin
Grandpa's hands
Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was OK. He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking, he said in a clear strong voice.
I didn't mean to disturb you, grandpa, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK I explained to him.
Have you ever looked at your hands he asked. I mean really looked at your hands?
I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making.
Grandpa smiled and related this story:
Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.
They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.
They dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life. They held my rifle and wiped my tears when I went off to war. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.
They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse and walked my daughter down the aisle.
Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friend’s foot. They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand. They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life.
But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ.
I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandpa's hands and led him home. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and wife I think grandpa. I know he has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel his hands upon my face.
*********************
Do Not Stand At my Grave & Weep: (and some background on it)
From Dear Abby.
Dear David: "Do Not Stand at My Grave and
Weep" is one of the most frequently requested
poems I have ever printed. I regret that I have
never been able to locate the author. Although
many people have claimed to have written it, I
have never been able to confirm any of the claims
Read on:
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 the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's 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 star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there; I did not die.
08/17/1990/Read
**************I am Standing Upon A Seashore:
I AM STANDING UPON THE SEASHORE.
A SHIP AT MY SIDE SPREADS HER WHITE SAILS TO THE MORNING BREEZE AND STARTS FOR THE BLUE OCEAN.
SHE IS OBJECT OF BEAUTY AND STRENGTH.
I STAND AND WATCH HER UNTIL AT LENGTH SHE HANGS LIKE A SPECK OF WHITE CLOUD JUST WHERE THE SEA AND SKY COME TO MINGLE WITH EACH OTHER.
THEN SOMEONE AT MY SIDE SAYS: “THERE SHE IS GONE!”
“GONE WHERE?”
GONE FROM MY SIGHT. THAT IS ALL.
SHE IS JUST AS LARGE IN MAST AND HULL AND SPAR AS SHE WAS WHEN SHE LEFT MY SIDE AND SHE IS JUST AS ABLE TO BEAR HER LOAD OF LIVING FREIGHT TO HER DESTINED PORT.
HER DIMINISHED SIZE IS IN ME, NOT IN HER.
AND JUST AT THE MOMENT WHEN SOMEONE AT MY SIDE SAYS: “THERE SHE IS GONE!”
THERE ARE OTHER EYES WATCHING HER COMING, AND OTHER VOICES READY TO TAKE UP THE GLAD SHOUT: “HERE SHE COMES!”
AND THAT IS DYING.
HENRY VAN DYKE, LAST PAGE IN HOSPICE BOOK-10/31/2002//Read.
****************
In My Dash :
IN MY DASH
I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone,
From the beginning...to the end.
He noted that first came her date of birth
and spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
(1949 - 2007)
For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on earth...
And now only those who loved her,
Know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own;
the cars...the house...the cash,
what matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
that can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
to consider what's true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger,
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we've never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile.
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.
So, when your eulogy's being read
with your life's actions to rehash...
Would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your dash?
With Love, From My dash to yours.
I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone,
From the beginning...to the end.
He noted that first came her date of birth
and spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
(1949 - 2007)
For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on earth...
And now only those who loved her,
Know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own;
the cars...the house...the cash,
what matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
that can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
to consider what's true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger,
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we've never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile.
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.
So, when your eulogy's being read
with your life's actions to rehash...
Would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your dash?
With Love, From My dash to yours.
**********
I wish you enough:
At an airport I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments
together. They had announced her plane's departure and standing near the
door, he said to his daughter, "I love you, I wish you enough." She said,
"Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I
ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy." They kissed good-bye and she
left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I
could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy,
but he welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone
knowing it would be forever?" "Yes, I have," I replied. Saying that brought back
memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me.
Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how
much he meant to me. So I knew what this man was experiencing.
"Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?" I asked.
"I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead
and the reality is, her next trip back will be for my funeral, " he said.
"When you were saying good-bye I heard you say, 'I wish you enough.' May
I ask what that means?" He began to smile. "That's a wish that has been
handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." He
paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail,
he smiled even more. "When we said 'I wish you enough,' we were wanting
the other person to have a life filled with enough good things to sustain
them," he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he
were reciting it from memory. "I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude
bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough
happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest
joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Good-bye." He then
began to sob and walked away.
My friends and loved ones, I wish you ENOUGH!!! They say, "It takes a
minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them,
but then an entire life to forget them."
Take the time to live!
At an airport I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments
together. They had announced her plane's departure and standing near the
door, he said to his daughter, "I love you, I wish you enough." She said,
"Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I
ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy." They kissed good-bye and she
left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I
could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy,
but he welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone
knowing it would be forever?" "Yes, I have," I replied. Saying that brought back
memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me.
Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how
much he meant to me. So I knew what this man was experiencing.
"Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?" I asked.
"I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead
and the reality is, her next trip back will be for my funeral, " he said.
"When you were saying good-bye I heard you say, 'I wish you enough.' May
I ask what that means?" He began to smile. "That's a wish that has been
handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." He
paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail,
he smiled even more. "When we said 'I wish you enough,' we were wanting
the other person to have a life filled with enough good things to sustain
them," he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he
were reciting it from memory. "I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude
bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough
happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest
joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Good-bye." He then
began to sob and walked away.
My friends and loved ones, I wish you ENOUGH!!! They say, "It takes a
minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them,
but then an entire life to forget them."
Take the time to live!
***********