Day 643 A Life Well Lived

 

I was up early and spent the wee hours of the morning outside with my chickens, digging in the dirt moving plants around the yard. I am in the early stages of creating a new plan for my back patio, possibly extending it and actually spending time creating a little landscaped area around it..in my mind it can happe so clearly it's already done!  I love barefoot weather and kick off my shoes every chance I get, without an ounce of concern for my inevitable filthy feet. Once I was inside, ready to clean up the aftermath of my playing, it took a bit of time to scrub up and get dressed for another funeral. I say another since they have become all too common in my life. Sadly the majority of funerals have been for younger people, kids really, not having lived a fraction of their lives. I've watched countless friends experience the unimaginable pain of losing a child, a few of them suffering the pain of losing more than one of their kids. Some of the deaths have been caused by drugs, suicide, car accidents others medical conditions, but somehow the cause of death doesn't change the grieving process or devastation to the family. I use to talk to death on the daily when my son was overseas fighting in the war, begging it not to take him. I would tell myself that if he were to die at least he was living his life as he wanted but I doubt that would have made it easier. He would call me when he was able to use a satellite phone, especially when the news talked about big casualties and just hearing his voice would put me at ease for the moment. I would lay in bed each night praying to every higher being I could think of, to watch over him and bring him home safely, bargaining that if a death was needed to let it be mine. When his friends were killed I mourned each loss while feeling unbelievable guilt for being relieved that it wasn't my son. War is a real mind mess for a mom. To this day I mourn the loss of the men he served with who didn't make it home, and feel an obligation to their moms to honor them for the rest of my life. Death and I knew each other well after several years of war but kids at home seem to be under fire from other factors and unarmed. Drug overdoses and suicide have continued to be on the rise and it doesn't appear anyone has any idea of how to stop the steady increase. The latest beautiful young soul that was laid to rest died from a heart condition at the young age of twenty nine. Her mother hugged me tightly in her grief, somehow comforted knowing I have daughters and could appreciate her loss, although I could never understand her pain. The service was concluded with a poem, A Life Well Lived, the author of this poem is unknown, another one of those artists that gave a gift to the world without recognition. I will be celebrating Mother's Day by counting my blessings, digging in the dirt, grateful for another day death and I remain at arms length. 

                                                          A life well lived is a precious gift

Of hope and strength and grace,
From someone who has made our world
A brighter, better place
It’s filled with moments, sweet and sad
With smiles and sometimes tears,
With friendships formed and good times shared
And laughter through the years.
A life well lived is a legacy
Of joy and pride and pleasure,
A living, lasting memory
Our grateful hearts will treasure

- Author Unknown