Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘peace’

No one should be forgotten.

I think that once we die, we think that we will simply become another snowflake on the ground among the rest of the dead. But I think we need to remember that we are remembered by those who matter.

Do you really need to be remembered by someone who only knows your name? Sure we can name off presidents, famous serial killers, famous inventors. But does it satisfy you to simply be remembered by your name? If they would actually become so interested to look up information, all they would know are facts. They would never know you, so wouldn’t you basically be “forgotten” anyway?

After a time, everyone who knows you will die too. But just because your name may not come up in conversation anymore, that one day tears will stop falling for you, that people will pass by your gravestone to get to someone else’s because no one knows who you are anymore, doesn’t mean you have been erased.

All of us leave a little piece of ourselves when we leave. No matter how small, or even how meaningless it may be to some people, we have all left our mark on the world. The world will never forget your presence, even if the people may.

For me, I do not feel the need to be remembered because I have faith about where I will go once this life has passed. I know that it will be more beautiful, more loving, and happier than this world could ever be. I do not care to be remembered in a world of death and destruction from which sin has taken over.

I will be patient for my death, but I am not afraid of it. But I also won’t waste my time.

Start leaving pieces of yourself in the minds of your friends and family. Leave pieces of advice that you have learned or pass on something that you treasure to someone whom you know will keep it safe and will pass down to others.

Trust me, my friends. The white lights of heaven will make you forget about everything that ever happened on earth. You are remembered by God, and He matters much more than any human in the world.

You will never be forgotten.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

My dog Bosten Terrier named Riva died yesturday. She choked on a steak bone and they couldn’t get it out of her asophagus because it was too lodged in and we had to put her down. We’ve had her for ten years. She was my first puppy and I grew up with her. That was hard by itself…

What made it worse was three weeks ago our dog Trooper, a shitzu/poodle mix, got hit by a van on the road. The van didn’t honk, didn’t slow down, didn’t stop to say sorry. He wasn’t even technically our dog either. My sister’s boyfriend had been living with us for almost two years, and he had gotten Trooper as a puppy and Trooper lived with us as well. My sister and Matt had just broken up recently, but Matt needed someone to watch Trooper while he was on a trip to Baltimore, so we did…and Trooper died the day before Matt got back home. Some welcome home present. Matt was still getting over the fact that my sister dumped him…

We still have two dogs left–a sixteen year old pug named Abby and a three year old Chihuahua named Toby. Abby will probably die at least of old age in the next couple years…

I came home last night, and Toby was the only one who greeted me home. His was the only bark I heard. Abby is more of a moving couch and sleeps all the time…but both Riva and Trooper’s barks are absent now, and it makes this house really quiet and empty.

I am so tired of crying. It took me forever to get to sleep last night. I kept wishing when I woke up that it would be Sunday so I could stop her from eating the steak bone. She has been eating steak bones all her life, it’s the chicken bones we have kept away from her…

I feel God has a reason for everything he does, and I think he took Trooper because it freed my sister from Matt. Trooper was basically the only thing keeping them together, so God released the two from each other.

As for Riva, I thought about it all day yesturday. Maybe Riva is gone, because my sister will probably be moving out in the next year, and this way all of us got to see her. I had just come home from college this weekend to help at my grandma’s house, and she died the day I went back. For both dogs, my sister had to tell me their death over the phone. It’s like getting dumped over a text. It sucks.

But I got to see Riva this weekend. I got to play with her and spend some time just having her curled up next to my leg on the recliner while we watched a movie. In a way, I think she knew something was going to happen. She was acting a little weird Sunday afternoon–shaking, though she wasn’t cold, and just seemed restless. I couldn’t figure out what she wanted. She seemed happy though. I remember her smile. She was a good girl. The best I’ve ever had.

What is it about dogs? They don’t have to say anything, they just have to be around to make you happy. They are always happy to see you, whether you’ve been gone for ten days or ten minutes. They love with everything they have. If only we humans could learn to give such love so freely.

Dog and human deaths are different. I don’t really know how to say why, but I’ll work on it. I’ve cried more over this dog than some funerals I’ve been to. When you love so deeply, it hurts more than normal when they are gone…but I’d rather dwell on the memories and feel lucky that I got the chance to have her, than to have never known her at all. As I cry, part of me doesn’t believe it, but that’s only because I’m in the hurting stage, and it’s the transition that’s troublesome. But God would never put us through anything we can’t handle, and he knows we are strong enough to handle this.

People die. Animals die. And they will keep dying. If we tuck ourselves away because we are afraid to cry over death, then we will end up crying anyway from how empty our lives would be.

We will probably buy another dog this summer, we will fall in love with it, and she, too, will die. But that doesn’t stop us from buying her. Everyone needs love in their lives, and dogs help hold us together.

Read Full Post »

I.

Drifting in a boat in Minnesota
the lake line buries under a thread of light.
Squinting through pines
it spans the fragile morning,
tips of waves like stars.

II.

Light lifts like an infant from a crib
as we tread through open air
ripples blooming behind the boat.
Loons trill secrets through silence
their shadows casting a spotlight.

III.

It is peaceful to silence the motor
and gaze into light’s eye
the lake steady as a paintbrush
till the first bite drags the bobber to its depths.

Read Full Post »