|New River in the fall|
Yet through the pain, I've been blessed to be surrounded by my closest friends and family. He was a wonderful man and it's impossible not to be happy to have known him. We've celebrated his life by sharing memories, listening to his favorite music, visiting some of his favorite places, and most of all appreciating what we still have...each other. My perspective has seemed to shift these past two weeks.
More than usual, I notice the sweet air and chirping birds. A beautiful sunset.
I hold my friends and family a little tighter when we hug.
I savor every little lick and cuddle I can from my pup.
I let little annoying things go instead of dwelling.
I realize, more than ever, the importance of this moment.
I'm trying not to rush life and wish away the not-so-fun moments, they're still moments.
I'm thinking about what's truly important to me, what I want to do while there is still time.
Because that's just the thing, we have no clue how much time there is. I have found solace in this poem, written by Mary Elizabeth Frye in 1932:
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 sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the uplifting rush
Of quiet birds circling in flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.