in our tradition,
people die three deaths.
the first death is when out bodies cease to function;
when our hearts no longer beat of their own accord.
when our gaze no longer has a depth or weight,
when the space we occupy slowly loses its meaning.
the second death comes when the body is lowered into the ground,
returned to mother earth, out of sight.
the third death,
the most definitive death,
is when there is no one left alive to remember us.
for several years during the month of october
we have gathered to share stories of our loved ones in
the art of remembering.
this has become one of the most touching and profound memes
i have ever had the honor of hosting.
as we take time to do the sacred work of remembering
we are filled with the presence of all those
that once filled our days with love and comfort.
as each story is shared we are graced
with the courage, life lessons, humor, wisdom and verve
of our dearest.
as in life, now in memory
our loved ones serve us as we honor them,
reaffirming our place in the mystery of it all.
to live life fully,
straight from our hearts with great unending passion,
to boldly care for each other
one full day at a time.
today i am sharing endearing snippets from past years offerings
to reawaken your tender memories and welcome your
new courageous stories.
"we seem far away
yet we are near as weeping
or the breath of God"
"My memories are precious like the flowers of the field
they are more precious than silver or gold.
My dad called me his little 'bud', I loved this I felt so special!"
"When I was a 'boater' with my husband before he died rather young,
I always felt I was in 'paradise' out on the ocean.
There is nothing quite like it when you are at one with the sea and hardly any boats around.
Grateful I have those wonderful memories."
"We lost Grandma when I was eight years old,
but she has never left my mind.
I've always considered her my guardian angel. If you look closely, you can almost see her wings."
"Momma also has a story about making a pie.
She had all of the ingredients except for an egg. She went to the chicken coop
and sat and waited and waited for a chicken to lay an egg.
Then she finished her pie."
"She had tiaras in every room of the house
so she could wear one when she was doing laundry or cooking."
They had five daughters and I am the "baby,
" age 74, and my mom always introduced me as "her baby,"
even when I was a married lady with kids myself.
"Later when I got home and unwrapped the flowers,
there tucked deep inside the flower stems were 3 dry pinto beans.
a message from Tim.
I still have those beans.
They are going on my ofrenda shrine."
"His name was John and he loved to garden.
He taught me how to till the soil
plant seeds to grow tomatoes and strawberries.
He taught me about caterpillars and worms.
He taught me to love the taste of what I'd grown by eating them right off the plant."
"My father taught me to grow up without fear,
to grab the bull by the horns,
and get out there and live life to the fullest.
Often, when I least expect it, I see and feel his hand holding mine..."
"Tonight I hope to have quiet time
in the living room to begin writing memories
of some of my family, friends and heroes and heroines
I admire who have passed on. Death does not end a relationship."
"We learn to live with loss by allowing ourselves to feel the pain and completely live in the present
moving on as best we can. So we will celebrate and remember
the happiness that we had, have, and share always."
i hope you will join me today and
each sunday in october culminating on Nov. 2
all souls day,
dia de los muertos.
please link with the words
so others can find us and share their stories too.
when you remember all that you have loved of someone,
they are with you.